Red And Gold
by sharky-clarky
Summary: "She's dangerous. She's broken. She's a mystery. She's the Black Angel, and she's mine." The Herondale's have always found interest in girls who are different. Then why would Ashley Herondale be any different? So when a mysterious girl with red hair turns up can he resist? When the past is revealed can everyone deal with it, or is this another Herondale doomed by loves keen sting?
1. Chapter 1

Screaming. That's all Jace could hear filling the halls of the institute like water fills a glass. It bounced off every wall, reached into every corner, broke every bit of his heart.

Clary was in the infirmary with Isabelle , Magnus and Maryse and had been for that past four hours. Jace sat outside, his back against the wall, arms resting on the tops of his knees. His mind was still burning from the energy rune him and Alec had both given each other before setting out hunting for demons and the 19 year old blond was becoming more and more restless by the minute.

It was one thing for Clary to be in such pain but knowing that he helped cause it, and knowing there was nothing he could do, no amount of words or comfort that could calm her down and make it all go away. Isabelle had called him the second Clary was taken into the infirmary and told him to get back as soon as he could. It was time.

Jace had left then, ignoring the calls from his parabatai and ran, he ran so far through the dank and murky alley way in New York, wanting nothing more than to hold his tiny red head and tell her everything was going to be okay.

When he'd finally reached the institute Simon had been by the gates, being a vampire it was impossible for him to enter the holy building but it didn't stop him being there like the good friend he was. After the defeat of Jonathon, Jace and Simon had finally found some common ground, the fact he was dating his adoptive sister was just the catalyst to help their mutual acquaintance.

Simon, with his pale skin and dark hair looked just as dishevelled as Jace had felt he did. His clothes looked like they'd seen better days and he looked tired. Whether a vampire could actually look tired was not the top of Jace's priority at that moment, he had to get to Clary and fast.

Running through the institute was strange, all the walls looked the same and every hallway seemed to look like the last, but finally he had made it. Turning the corner to the infirmary he saw someone exit the room Clary was currently in. A girl around his age with long black hair pulled into a pony tail and wearing all black clothing, her pale skin adorned by the permanent runes that covered her bare arms and chest.

He had stopped him from entering, stopped him seeing Clary claiming he didn't make it in time and she couldn't cope with anyone else at the moment. He protested obviously but that wasn't enough to get him past Isabelle. She had her whip handy and taken him to the floor before he even had the chance to fight back.

The door was locked now; no doubt the work of Magnus Bane, the high warlock of Brooklyn and Alec's boyfriend, stopping him getting to his angel. His small red headed angel. The angel that had brought him back to the light when the world seemed so dark. Granted the way she'd chosen to do it wasn't ideal and led to a lot of complications, but that didn't matter to him. What mattered what that when he needed her she was there, unlike now.

He continued to listen to her screaming in agony for what felt like hours. Was it hours? Was it days? Jace had no idea. He just sat on the floor and waited.

Finally the institute fell silent. Jace heard the sound of the door unlocking and was on his feet and through the door before anyone could protest, not that that mattered now of course. He walked across the room, down the aisle between the rows of white infirmary beds straight to the one at the end. His heart beat was thumping in his ears, blocking out all sound and a lot of common sense from reaching his conscious mind.

Stopping at the last bed on the left Jace's breath caught in his throat. Lying on the bed sheets, propped up by what looked like a mountain of pillows was a red headed angel. His red headed angel. Her hair was tied in a loose bun but a lot of the bright red ringlet's had escaped and was currently plastered to her forehead and neck by sweat. Her white gown seemed to also be stuck to her body like a second skin by sweat, but Jace wasn't looking or caring about that. He stared at her with a large smile on his face, his angel. Her small frame only just reached past the halfway point on the bed and her normally pale skin covered by the black runes of the shadowhunters was pinked in places whether from heat or exhaustion he didn't know. He didn't care.

He stared at her face, her tired yet still beautiful face. Her cheeks where rosy and her emerald eyes were shining with unshed tears as she gazed down into her arms. Jace followed the sight, looking down her pale arms also adorned by rune or the thin white scars indicating past runes at the bundle held in his angel's arms.

A sound choked its way out of Jace's throat causing Clary's eyes to rest on him. It was a strange sound, halfway between a sob and laugh making Jace bite down on his knuckles to stop it escaping again. Her sweet, innocent smile grew when her eyes landed on him, her eyes filled with excitement and pure happiness.

Jace walked forward and sat on the edge of the bed next to his Clary. She wasted no time in passing the bundle of blankets to him and giggling slightly at how cautious his face was, pulled into an expression of concentration. Almost like someone who was being given a doll made of paper thin glass and was terrified of dropping of damaging it in any way.

"Jace. Meet Ashley" Isabelles voice was soft and maternal as she stood over Jace's shoulder, craning her neck to get her own glimpse of the newborn. "Ashley. Meet papa" Jace scoffed slightly.

"Papa?" he said not taking his eyes off the child but sarcasm still evident in his voice "I'm not a granddad dad Iz, honestly. Try again" Not even the birth of his first child was enough to knock the arrogance out of Jace's voice.

"Fine." She said huffing. "Meet daddy" Jace smiled, cradling the baby boy like he was the most delicate thing on the earth.

"Ash. The best shadowhunter to of walked this earth since Jonathon Shadowhunter himself!" Jace exclaimed gaining a giggle from the infirmary bed. He looked at Clary to see her eyes shut, her head resting against the head board.

"I swear if you take him to the weapons room with you, I will be forced to kill you" She said, her voice sounding exhausted.

"Don't doubt you would" Jace said, his smile growing "But what you can't watch him all the time" he said with a wink. This achieved him getting a slap from two people on each arm. "OW! Sleeping infant here!" he proclaimed in a fake whispering voice. Clary giggled again and went back to resting her head on the head board. Jace stood, baby Ashley still in his arms before leaning over and giving Clary a kiss on the forehead "Thank you" he whispered in her ear, gaining him a small smile.

Hearing a small grunt he looked down. Ashley's eyes were open, gazing up at him with an emotion that could on be described as fascination. His eyes were large and as gold and syrup, his hair, an already thick mass of golden curls. The same colour as his father's but same style as his other. Jace wiggled his finger in front of the baby's nose, laughing silently to himself when Ashley grabbed it with his tiny hands.

"Ashley Herondale" Jace said, his voice quiet, speaking only to the child "Demons won't know what hit them"


	2. Chapter 2

**This is my first TMI fanfic so please review and tell me what you think, any comments or criticism are greatly appreciated! **

**Unfortunately I don't know the mortal instruments or any of the characters except for those of my own making. They are all mine to do as I please mwahaha!:3  
Love you guys please review or PM me! 3**

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17 YEARS LATER 

"Keep up Seb! Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if Gloria could run faster than you!" The golden haired boy chimed as he raced through the dank alley's of New York, a cocky smile spread across his face screaming arrogance into every direction. His hair was plastered to his slightly tanned skin by rain; any places showing skin were adorned by the thick black runes required for any shadowhunter while they were hunting. Speed, Balance, angelic power and parabatai. He wore the usual gear sported by shadow hunters, thick leather trousers, boots and a jacket atop a black shirt. He was tall and slim with a muscular build, his soaking shirt clinging to his toned stomach and chest like a second skin.

"Gloria's two! Plus you're faster than I am" The second boy was taller Than the first with dark brown curly hair, currently plastered to his forehead and dark brown, almost black eyes. He wore the same gear and sported the same runes but where the first boy was tanned, Seb was pale. "Honestly Ash. If you had to lug around this thing you'd be worn by now as well" Sebastian said, gesturing to the thick long sword strapped to the back of his gear.

Each boy had an array of weapons from daggers to seraph blades to swords as they chased demons through the streets and alleys of the city. 17 year old Ashley was the first born child of Jace and Clary Herondale. His hair eyes and skin were golden like his father's but his hair curled in a way only a Fairchilds could.

His parabatai- Sebastian- was only a few months younger than him and parented by Isabelle and Simon Lewis. He looked just like his father but with the dark mysterious eyes of his mother. The boys stopped, caught at a cross road in the alleyway, each direction looking more and more sinister than the first. The dark and murky shadows holding the possibility for any life, human or not.

"Great" Sebastian exclaimed, his breath a little more ragged due to carry the extra weight. "Now which way" Sebastian's face, though flushed of colour, held the tell tale signs of both annoyance and exhaustion. Ashley however was beaming, his golden aura emitting into ever dark corner of the alley, growing in intensity with every inch of his growing smile. "Stop with the smiling! You're dad's going to go mental when he knows we let it get away!" Sebastian was fuming. Losing a demon was one of the things that could activate his usually very tolerant temper, that and Ash's way of finding humour in any situation. "STOP SMILING!"

"We haven't lost it Lewis" Ashley said with an all knowing glint in his eye, the same glint resigning in his father's at every moment. "You're just not looking" Sebastian gave his parabatai a look. A look of questioning and confusion. He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a grinding sound, followed shortly by a slivering hiss.

Ashley stood up straight, having previously slumped on the wall and took a seraph blade from his belt.

"_Ithuriel" _he whispered, smiling at the thought of the angels name and the weight it carried before nodding to his parabatai who had instantly followed his lead. They walked slowly down into the cross road, standing back to back as the hissing spread around them. An animalistic sound with a disorientating effect causing both the teens to feel dead on their feet. They snapped out of it when a mass of claws and teeth swarmed them from the shadows.

Before either could move, four scorpios demons emerged from the shadows, each closing in from a different alley, their barbed tails flicking with anticipation with each step. Sebastian gulped; sweat beginning to bore on his pale forehead as he flicked his gaze between his two alley way demons. Ashley however was beaming, ever ready for a fight. Seraph blade in hand, Ashley lunged for the first of the four demons, slashing away at any sight of movement. ichor splattered his cloths with an oozing hiss and he visibly grimaced. He could hear Sebastian behind him, fighting with the same purposeful and determined strikes. The alley exploded as the demons closed in on themselves, spraying the two teens with more oozing black ichor.

Ashley, still beaming like a small child looked to his parabatai. Sebastian had already put his weapons away but was panting heavily, his breath coming ragged and quick. Ash wiped sweat from his golden brown, revelling in the cooling sensation that the spring rain had on his runed skin and with a smile began walking towards Sebastian.

Footsteps echoed though the alley, disorientated and without direction, seeming to echo from each and every alley. The stench of rotting garbage filled the air as the boys turned back to back one more, armed in both hands with seraph blades, or in Sebastian's case a large, glinting silver sword, coated in runs with a red jewel at the hilt.

Looking into each alley way with quick, reflective movements Ash caught the slightest disturbance in the shadows. A flash of colour thought the murky rain ridded cobbles. Keeping his eye's trained, Ash watched as two red eyes materialised from the alley's depths, followed by the blue scaled body of a demon. A greater demon.

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He could feel his breathing become ragged, mixing with the feeling of Sebastian's panting he could feel through their touching backs. The body, though still hidden in shadow, was clear now, closer than it was, standing only a few feet away from the teens. His red eyes glinting in an almost amused fashion, his arms crossed across his blue, scaly chest and his barbed, blue tail flicking with anticipation behind him.

"Bravo little nephilim." The demon said, his voice a low, disgruntled hiss "Bravo!" he clapped his hands towards the boys as Sebastian jumped around, now standing shoulder to shoulder with his parabatai to keep the creature in sight.

"What do you want?" Ash said his voice strong though his legs felt sudden aching and hollow. The demon laughed.

"Not a matter of want, young Herondale" he said, inclining his head slightly towards Ash who gasped in surprise at the demons recognition "More a matter of who" Confused, and more than a bit wary, Ash opened his mouth to retort, likely something sarcastic but was saved the effort by Sebastian, who was always too curious for his own good. So much like his father.

"How do you know Ash's name?" Ash elbowed him lightly in the ribs. The demon may have known his last name, but he looked a lot like his father, Jace Herondale, who was the best shadowhunter of his generation. It was obvious what his last name was, not his first. The demon laughed an echoing, repulsive sound before it spoke.

"I had a run in with a relative of yours. A master William. You hold the same arrogance I merely guessed" his eyes narrowed intimidating "By your response I suppose I'm right?"

Ash said nothing, just held his ground and his grip on the blades, which was becoming more and more challenging by the wetness of rain and slickness of sweat coating his palm from nerves. In all his years of shadowhunting, Ash had never encountered a greater demon, and from the stories his father and Uncle Alec had told this wasn't good.

"Who are you after?" Ash asked, desperate to change the subject. "Did you send the scorpios demons?"

"I did yes. I'm doing a favour to a, let say, acquaintance, of mine" The demon spoke, his voice back to the rasping hiss "But your little intrusion has dented my time, I'll make short work of you" The demons tail whipped, too fast for Ash to even see, and went to strike.

Before he had a chance to dodge he was on the floor, looking up as the demon's tail flexed back the tip slick with blood, watching as Sebastian, sword in hand fell to the floor.

"SEB!" Ash could feel the pain Sebastian could, could feel the burning the spiked tail left in his upper arm and could feel the poison spreading towards his blood stream. Not an instantly fatal poison Ash knew, but if left long enough, it would be.

Ash was on his feet, slashing and stabbing at the demon as much as he could, but the creature blocked with ease, batting him away like a cat would a fly. There was a clattering sound, and Ash watched as his blade fell to the floor, landing next to Sebastian who was slowly stumbling to his feet, his sword still hanging point down from his grasp. His gear was torn on one sleeve revealing a deep gash in his upper arm covered in deep purple ooze. Poison.

Diving for the blade, Ash's shoulder scraped the floor, bumping roughly against the cobbles and scattered rubbish from the cities homeless. As his hand closed around the hilt he rose to his feet in one swift movement. He looked at Sebastian and saw how his face had paled, and how his arm was hanging limp by his side as he stumbled in the same place, his head looking too heavy to hold.

Reaching out to examine the wound, Ash was only reminded of the greater demon in the alley when he heard its wailing screech. A horrific sound, likely to drive the weak hearted to madness. Thrashing around, Ash saw the demon swinging its scaled arms, clawing and scratching at a black shadow that had appeared on his shoulders.

The demon fell, landing face down in a murky black puddle of ichor before folding in on itself and disappearing. Dragging his eyes from the spot it fell, Ash looked up and caught the gaze of the attacker. Standing in The Street was a girl.

A girl no older than him with pale skin adorned by runes, her cheeks slightly flushed and a wide grin stretched across her pretty face. She wasn't wearing gear; instead she wore a black vest with baggy black jeans and dark boots, a weapons belt hanging off her hip. She had two swords hanging on her back and a blade on her hand she was currently inspecting, the smile still on her face. Her hair was pulled into a braid down her back, reaching her waist and was a bright red colour, bright enough to light the alley in a crimson glow.

She looked up, her bright blue eyes meeting Ash's golden ones and her smile widened. Before he could say anything, like a thank you, or an explanation, Sebastian spoke up.

"You killed it?" he said, his voice weak and raspy, eyes still trained on the floor.

"No, she did" Ash said, pointing to where the girl was, his eyes trained on his parabatai and his wound as he supported his weight.

"Ash" Seb said "There's no one there" Forgetting Seb's condition for a moment, Ash's head whipped up and there she was, standing, her legs shoulder width apart, blade in hand and a smile on her face. She wasn't looking at him though.

"Yes she is!" Ash said his head whipping between the girl and his parabatai and the girl. "She's right in front of us!" Seb lifted his head, slowly so not to disorientate him more but quickly dropped it again, letting it loll on his neck.

"I don't see her" Ash was dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open until he heard the girl laugh. Looking up he saw her blade was back on her belt and her hand was currently on her hip, the other by her side. He looked at her with a questioning gaze, obviously demanding an explanation, and after a brief huff of faux annoyance, she obliged.

"No, he can't see me" she said, still laughing slightly, whether from amusement or mockery, Ash didn't know, he suspected both.

"W-W- Why not?" Ash stuttered out, still too shocked to fully comprehend the situation logically.

"Because" she said taking a step backwards, still smiling. Not a sweet smile, but a cocky, arrogant smile, much like the one him and his father often wore. "I don't want him to" her voice was patronising as she leaned only her upper body forward slightly, like she was saying the most obvious thing in the world. Her eyes flickered in the dim light cast by Ash's witchlight, Seb's having died after his injury. "You may want to get him home, a greater demons poison is fatal after about thirty minutes, and I'd say you've wasted...hmmm... about ten" she said, pretending to look at the time on her bare wrist, showing no sign she cared about his welfare at all.

"Who are you?" Ash said, still not sure whether he was awake or having a really bizarre dream. She gave him a quick wink just as Seb made a grumbling sound from his throat, drawing his attention away. When Ash looked back up, she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! **

**As much I want to I don't own TMI but i do own any characters that i made :P**

**Enjoy! Please favourite, follow and review!**

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"Come on Sadie, move your feet more!" Jace was stood barefoot in the training room, his golden skin covered in the tiny white scars of previous runes dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt. He kept his arms crossed over his chest as he watched with mild amusement at the sight of his second born child and her fighting skills. Her hair, currently tied into a hair ponytail was shoulder length and the same bright red as her mothers, though lacking the unruly ringlets, replaced instead by gentle and delicate waves. Her bright emerald eyes were shinning with determination as she swung the training sword once again towards her opponent. Sadie was a beautiful teen, nearly taller than Clary already and slim too. Her skin was pale, currently lacking the runes but thin white scars of previous ones were still evident. Her face was slightly flushed and shining with sweat, the faint tickle of freckles adorning her face hidden slightly by the redness.

Alec, his still parabatai stood next to him dressed similarly but with a blue shirt, courtesy of Magnus. Where Jace was leaning against the wall, Alec was standing straight and tall, the same air of maturity in his posture that he had when he first turned 18 and seemed to hold onto ever since.

"Remember what I told you Max!" He shouted at his son. "She may be a girl but that does not mean you are instantly better" Max was a small boy of 12 with black hair and blue eyes like his father. Since Magnus was incapable of having children due to his infertility, him and Alec had found a surrogate mother to carry both of their children.

"Isabelle is proof of that" Jace said with a cocky smile as he stood watching the young teens.

Max was a lot like his deceased uncle he was named for; he wasn't very tall or muscled and had a large pair of glasses that hung off his nose when he was fighting. Still, he was a good shadowhunter for his age, not as good as Sadie, but still good. His eyes lacked the sheer devotion usually seen in his fathers; instead he was more calm and caring like Magnus, strange when there was no biological connection between them.

Sadie however was bristling with determination, moving around the training room with purposeful strides and swinging the sword in graceful, yet lethal swipes. Seconds later there was a clattering of metal and Jace looked up to see Sadie standing before Max, the silver straining sword held at his throat, his sword in her pale hands.

Seeing the look on Alec's face, Jace couldn't help but laugh. It was the same look he held whenever Clary or Isabelle beat him but it was obvious Max had a different reaction. He put his hands up in a mock surrender, a sly smile spread across his features. It was obvious that Max was more cunning than he was a fighter. Sadie, who had just turned 15, lowered her sword, her face expressionless as she turned and left the room, her sword clattering onto the polished floor as she exited.

Jace couldn't help it anymore, he laughed before getting up from the wall and clapping Alec on the back.

"I believe you owe me" he said, his arm slung lazily over his parabatai's shoulder. Alec looked over at Max with a strange, yet amusing look on his face, getting him nothing but a shrug in return. Rolling his eyes, Alec went into his black jeaned pockets and drew out five dollarspassing it over his shoulder to Jace with as little enthusiasm as possible.

Jace, ever the joker took the note and unfolded it, holding it to the light as he pretended to inspect. "You know what they say about money earned" He said kissing the note in an over dramatic way, making a big show of his victory bet.

"Whatever Herondale" Alec said, walking over and putting his arm around his son's shoulder. "Max just wants to be more compassionate and gentle like his other father is all" he said as he ruffled Max's hair which he had currently spiked up like Magnus's, earning him an annoyed humph.

Just then the door opened and Jace turned to see Clary walking through the room, a small infant clinging to her hand. Her hair was as wild as ever, tied into a loose bun, her green eyes shining with amusement. She wore black jeans with a dark green blouse.

"Joining the victory my dear" Jace said with a wink as he waved the note in teh air. Clary walked over quickly towards him, standing so close they were almost touching, a sly smile across her face.

"Wouldn't want to miss it would I" she said in a quiet voice. Jace smiled his golden smile; the smile reserved for her and leant down to kiss her. She closed her eyes but ducked away at the last moment, waving a note by her head before returning it to Alec. Jace narrowed his eyes in mock annoyance as Alec gave him a superior look. Clary walked back towards him and run her slender fingers through his golden hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into herouch.

He winced away when he felt her hand hit him upside the head.

"What was that for!" he half shouted, rubbing his head as he looked at Clary who was pointing an accusing finger at him. He pulled a childish pout towards her in an attempt to make her smile but failed.

"Stop betting on our children" She said, Alec and Max stifling laughs behind him. He tried to act innocent, giving her the big eyes she couldn't resist, but he broke into a smile when he heard the quiet giggle come from the door way breaking his spell. Looking around the red head he saw the small girl stood in the door way, her chubby hands over her mouth as she giggled away.

"Now it's not very nice to laugh at daddy now is it" he said, walking towards the small child with quick strides. The child saw him get closer and her bright green eyes widened as she tried to run, only to be too slow. Jace grabbed her around the stomach, heaving her up like she weighed nothing and cradling her in his arms as she squirmed. She giggled more as Jace began to tickle her tummy. When he saw tears of laughter fall down from her eyes he stopped, placing the small girl gently on his hip as she wrapped her chubby arms around his neck. "Now what have we learnt not to do missy?" he asked giving the little girl a false pointed look.

"Laugh at daddy?" she said, her voice sweet and gentle. The sort of voice that you would stop and listen to all day.

"That's right angel" Jace replied, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before placing her back on her two feet. Hearing laughing, Jace turned around to see the other occupants of the room laughing at him. "No wonder she laughed, look at you lot!" he said, pointing to each of the fellow occupants in turn.

Clary was the first to stop, walking over to him and wrapping one arm around his waist with a big smile on his face. The other arm she placed on the little girls shoulder. Gloria was the youngest of the Herondale children being only 2 years old. Her eyes were the brightest green and large and round. Her hair a mass of golden blonde ringlets. She had a pale complexion and a light dusting of freckles. All in all she was a perfect little girl. Small and cute and amazing to look at,savouring the beauty of her mother. Yet she was also cheeky and a 'little devil' as Magnus sometimes called her, especially when she got paint in his glitter. Overall she was perfect mix of her parents.

Jace looked down at Clary, who even for a 25 year old, was still very small. She had matured perfectly, filling out in all the right places but maintaining her adorable size. Her face, though still beautiful looked older now, more mature yet untouched by age, not a wrinkle insight. She really was Jace's red haired angel. Her gaze moved from Gloria's blonde head and looked at him, her green eyes bright and happy as she smiled back.

"What?" she said softly, her voice almost a whisper, but Jace heard her.

"I love you" He replied with the smile he reserved for her on his face, his eyes unguarded. She smiled back lightly until their lips brushed, just a soft kiss, but lingering.

"EW!" they pulled apart to see little Gloria pretending to throw up. With a laugh, Jace pulled away from Clary, a childish but sly smile adorning his face as grabbed the child again and threw her over his shoulder, listening to his giggles of delight as he ran around the training room. Gloria had been named after the very sword Clary had used to save Jace from Jonathan's clutches. Glorious. He loved all his children equally. Ash with his love of the hunt but still with the gentle caring nature of his mother though he looked like his father, Sadie, the girl who seemed to see the shadowhunter life as a bore, like there was always something much better she could be doing but never gave in and then there was little Gloria. She really was Jace's guardian angel, the little spark of happiness that bring him into the light, even when his days seem most dark.

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"Come in" Magnus called in reply to the repetitive knocking on his door. He sat on his bed in the institute room which he shared with Alec should they come to visit. Everything was normal, lacking the Magnus touch with little to no glitter to be seen. He wore black leather trousers and a white shirt with no shoes. On his lap sat a child, a little girl with straight black hair and bright blue, oceanic eyes. She was pretty for a three year old, wearing a small blue dress with just a dab of sparkles.

The door opened and in cam Isabelle, panting heavily and leaning against the door frame with one hand, the other holding her severely large baby bump. Being eight months pregnant with her second child, Isabelle was no stranger to the burden of pregnancy. Not being able to drink coffee unless it was decaf, lugging around what felt like fifty shopping bags with her twenty four-seven, the unbearable amount of times she needed to pee and worst of all, missing out on hunting.

Simon was very good to Isabelle, always checking she was okay and staying at the sanctuary on the edge of the institutes in case the baby should come along. Magnus had confirmed this one to be a healthy little girl.

Looking up at the large, round belly that was nowIsabelle, Magnus couldn't help but smile.

"How can I help you Izzy dear?" He asked as he began to absentmindedly plait the small girl's hair while she sat on his lap. Isabelle's face seemed to pale slightly and after Magnus patting the bed beside him, she came and sat down next to the warlock who was now her was now her brother in law

Magnus couldn't help but chuckle as the beds springs complained to the added weight of what seemed to be a small cow after Izzy sat down.

Sure carrying a bay was hard but it was even worse for shadowhunters, not to mention a shadowhunter-downworlder cross. Of course the cross between the species was not issue, Sebastian-there oldest child named after Sebastian Verlac had long since proved that- yet carrying a child that was not only growing stronger by the day but also draining your body of blood was no easy task, even for miss independent Isabelle.

Toying with the edge of her long white dress Magnus could only faintly hear what Isabelle was saying as she muttered under her breath.

"I need to talk to you about something...something important" Magnus could easily guess what this was about. Even though her eyes were trained to the floor, Magnus knew what he would see should she choose to look up. Her dark brown-almost black round eyes would be filled with worry and concern, much like they were when she was pregnant the first time, why this was bothering her now Magnus had no idea.

He opened his mouth to egg her on, only for the little girl to choose this moment to leave Chaiman miow's tail lone.

"AUNTY IZZY!" she chimed, her sweet and innocent voice filled with enthusiasm and excitement, so unlike that his biological father had carried. Magnus being a warlock was baron and unable to have children of his own, but the same was not said for Alec. After a long time of talking and persuasion, Magnus had finally convinced Alec to find a surrogate mother, someone who would both mother and carry the couple's child. Their first child being Max who was the spitting image of his father, was 12 years old and Blue, the small bundle of excitement whose hair Magnus was currently tying off with a blue bow was slowly turning 4.

"Hey sweetie" Isabelle said, opening her arms wide and beckoning the child forward, Blue wasted no time in lunging at the poor pregnant girl, knocking her back slightly. Though both children looked like Alec, only Blue seemed to have a similar personality. Where most girls wanted to play with dolls, Blue always managed t find her way into the weapons room and watch her father train with her uncle Jace. Max however, who was part way through his training didn't seem so intrigued with the demon hunting world. Instead he was like his second father, worrying about his hair and how his clothes looked. Unfortunately for Magnus, neither child has picked up his strange and unruly obsession for glitter in all different colours and shades.

Though Isabelle's eyes had lightened due to the boisterous toddler, Magnus could still see the concern and questions brewing behind her dark brown irises. He shifted slightly around the bed so his was now sitting closer to Isabelle and placed on of his slender hands on her knee. She didn't look up at him, instead continued to stroke Blue's hair who currently had her ear pressed up to Isabelle's large belly, listening intently for any sound of movement.

"Isabelle, tell me what's bothering you" Magnus said, his voice deep and concerned. Isabelle took a deepbreath, seeming to be trying to decide whether or not to go back on her mission, whether to ask or run back to her room and forget it until it crept up on her another day.

"It's Simon" she said, her voice void of all emotion, all but regret.

"Care to elaborate dear, I'm no silent brother" this gained him a slight chuckle but she still look worried and a little bit sad. She paused, contemplating whether or not to reply, and after taking a deep breath she did.

"I don't want to leave him Magnus" she said, finally meeting his eyes. Her dark eyes were pooling with unshed tears threatening to pool over any second. Isabelle was usually a very strong girl, breaking the hearts of men left right and centre, but motherhood had softened her a bit to the feeling of others, she opened her heart to Simon, never thinking of the consequences until it was too late to back out. Isabelle never made rash decisions like Jace did, but Simon seemed to be the kryptonite to her.

"This is about your mortality isn't it?" he asked, watching as a tear feel from her right eye and trailed down her cheek. Taking this as an answer, Magnus wiped the tear away from her pale cheeks, even with the pregnancy and the lack of makeup she wore now, Isabelle was beautiful. She still shone brighter than any star and even though her eyes were different, Magnus could still see Alec in her beautiful face, sad and vulnerable.

"You mustn't worry; Simon has pledged to spend the rest of his life with you Isabelle. Not many downworlders would do that" She sniffed, letting the tears flow freely now, splashing onto the top of her bump.

"But it won't be for the rest of his life Magnus, it will be for the rest of mine, I can't stand for what happened to Tessa to happen to him" She said, her voice overwhelmed slightly by her sadness but her words still comprehendible. It had become common knowledge to the New York institute what had happened to Tessa Gray, ever since she introduced herself to Jace as relative, several generations ago. Being half demon half showdowhunter, Tessa was granted with both immortality and fertility. She stood by and watched as the love of her life, William Herondale withered and died, followed by their children, and their children's children until the pain became too much and she moved away. "He's too delicate" she said gently, her voice flat, defeated almost.

"He's stronger than he looks Isabelle" Magnus replied, understanding all too well what she was going through. The thought of living after Alec was too much for him to bear sometimes, but he'd been here before, maybe not as committed, never had he found someone who he was willing to settle down with, have fun maybe, but something about Alec was different. Something tethered them together in a way Magnus, who had lived for hundreds of years and lost hundreds of lovers couldn't understand.

_You've lost more than lovers_ a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered, luring him back into memories of a time long ago, of a girl who meant more than any love possible could_. _A girl who had disappeared in time without so much of a goodbye. He shoved the thought away from his mind, he had buried her memory long ago, and he wasn't letting it get the better of him, not now, not ever. There was a flicker of colour and the girl was gone once again.

"But there are those immortals that move on after their lover's leave, ones who travel from person to person, from love to love, and there are those who don't. Those who wonder around the earth looking for a sense of purpose since their last one was ripped away by mortality's claws." His all knowing voice filled the silence of the room, exploding wisdom and wonder into every corner from his experienced tone. He placed his hand back on Isabelle's knee, watching as she turned her eyes to the small child now cuddled in her lap, sleeping silently like the wasn't a care in the world, her pale, chubby arms wrapped around the baby bump."Simon is a wanderer that much is clear"

She looked up; her dark eyes still spilling small tears searched his yellow ones, sizing him up. The words she spoke cut through Magnus, cut him deep down like he was nothing more than butter and her words a hot knife, slicing through him with ease, stunning him to the question at hand. Memories swirled in his mind, memories of the past and ambitions for the future. His dreams, his hopes and his losses spread before him to choose from. Her voice was soft, but bursting with untold worry. Not worry for Magnus, not even for herself, for someone much more important to the both of them.

"Which are you Magnus?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

**Still don't own TMI I'm afraid :/**

**I'm considering looking for someone to proof read my stuff for me to make sure it all makes sense since I'm a tiny bit helpless when it comes to that...**

**For teh record, Clary is 35, not 25...bit of a bad typo on my part thank you for pointing it out for me J you know who you are ;) **

**Anyway, favourite, follow, tell your friends and review people!**

* * *

"Come on Seb!" Ash said, his voice sounding weak and exhausted from having to support the weight of his parabatai who seemed to be deteriorating before his eyes. "You've come back from worse than this" The strange girl hadn't been lying, there wasn't much time to get Sebastian back to the institute, he needed healing and no amount of iratze's or strength runes were going to help him. He needed a warlock, he needed Magnus.

Ash thought more about how to explain the situation to Isabelle who was more than likely going to be furious, like the time Jace swapped the salt for sugar wondrously improving her cooking, no one knew it was possible but it was. However, every time a plan began to form in his mind it turned to smoke, only too replaced by a cocky grin accompanied by sparkling bright blue eyes.

Ashley had become more cautious of his surroundings, jumping into action for the sake of his parabatai with every shadow and sound. More than once he had looked behind him; sure he'd seen a flash of witch-light followed by a flicker of red only to be greeted by the darkness of the New York streets.

The rain had slowed from the heavy downpour to a light trickle. The sort of trickle that would still soak you to the skin in a matter of seconds. Both boys were already wearing their gear like a second skin, Ash having ripped the bottom of his shirt off to bind the poison infested wound, there was no doubt his mother was going to give him and earful for it, but right now it didn't matter, right now he didn't care. All he cared about was getting his parabatai to safety and talking to the one person who knew these streets inside and out. He needed to talk to uncle Magnus for more than one reason tonight.

Ash's speed had slowed dramatically, dropping like a stone the same way his energy did. His body was used to the adrenaline of fighting and the comforting weight of extra weapons, but not another human being. The most he'd carried in the way of people was little Gloria and she wasn't really much to handle herself.

Usually it was Sebastian who had to carry Ash, him being as cocky as his father with the same spontaneous thinking of his mother, never thinking before he acted. He laughed thinking of the time he was a child, listening to stories on the sofa about how his mother had stabbed his father in order to save him from his evil demon uncle.

His family was different to say the least, both his aunt and his uncle had married a down-worlder, he had more angel blood than any other shadow-hunter, his parents excluded, and was exceptionally talented when it came to runes. He wasn't like his mother who could create runes for her own needs, that was way beyond his level, but everyone had said a rune drawn by Ash was more powerful than one you could draw on yourself. Clary was the only exception to this rule obviously; having had direct contact with angel blood since before she was born.

Sadie however, took after her father's gift. She was an exceptional fighter and even managed to beat Ash on one occasion. She never bragged though, never stuck around to be congratulated. There was something about Sadie, something like she didn't want to be in this life, like she was only in it out of force of will, out of the bond tying her to it by her blood. She seemed to want nothing more than to get away, to escape the life of violence and be normal. She sometimes even seemed envious of their mother and the fact she had a choice for her lifestyle, she didn't have it thrust upon her when she got her first marks. But then Sadie was always ungrateful, always wanting more than she got.

She was beautiful, her face fuelled with less cuteness and more beauty. The fact her long red hair was such a beautiful mix of deep red and brown and wasn't so unruly helped, falling in silky waves down to her mid-back. Being her brother Ash tried his best to protect her; every time he saw her staring at a mundane from the institute window he would draw her attention away by making a snide remark. He hated how he acted sometimes, hated how everyone seemed to see him as his father's son, never his mothers. Always seeing the cocky, fighting badass, never the sensitive and shy painter. Everything hidden under his golden mask.

Truth was, Ash had no interest in going out and getting with girls like his father supposedly did, sure he liked to look at them every now and then, think about them from time to time, everyone did, but none of them ever stuck. _Until now. _The sly voice whispered in the back of his mind, throwing a flash of blue and red into his mind. He shook his thoughts free. If this girl had the slightest bit of interest in him, she'd show up again and he wouldn't waste any time learning more about her.

The way she held herself, so strong like nothing could break her, like if you threw a knife at her the blade would bend, barely scratching her polished surface. But even with that she was beautiful, her long hair, or what he could see of it lighting the alley in a crimson illumination, so much like blood but also so much like a rose.

That how he saw her, as dark and dangerous as spilt blood but a beautiful and complex as a rose. He didn't doubt however that the girl had some big secret about her, the way she stood, with an air of false relaxation, the way her shoulders tensed ad she was always looking out the corner of her eyes, the way her cocky smile still didn't seem to reach her large, crystal, blue eyes.

He was curious, nothing more. It's not every day a strange yet beautiful girl drops from the sky like a shadow and saves not only you, but your parabatai and not waiting around to explain or receive a thank you. This wasn't like some fantasy he had read in a book, this wasn't seeing a girl for no more than a few seconds and falling into a pit of destiny and lost love, having her slide across your mind followed by flowers and clouds and all that lovey-dovey stuff Isabelle was into with her 'chic-flicks' as she called them. No, this was wanting an explanation for the strangest moment of his life. This was wanting to know why a girl, whose eyes were so bright and so beautiful, could hold such darkness in their depts, why they seemed too old and too wise to be on a face so youthful.

He would find her, one day, he knew he would. With the help of Magnus he was sure he could track this girl down, find out her secrets and her mysteries, find what she was hiding beneath her sleek red hair and an oceanic eyes. It was only as he exited out of the last alley and onto the open streets that he could finally see the light of the institute, the glamour, slipping away without him even thinking about it. It was only now, as he watched the figures in the illuminated window moving around, one with a great bush of hair on their head, the other tall and muscular that Ash noticed he could no longer feel Sebastian's heavy breathing beside him.

* * *

Isabelle returned to her room after her talk with Magnus, her mind had suddenly began to feel unbelievable foggy and her vision had began to blur. She can't remember what had happened after that, in fact she couldn't remember what had happened before that either. All she knew is that she went to Magnus with a problem, a personal problem, one that kept her awake at night and made her feel wary for what the future would bring, not for herself, but for her husband.

_Simon. _She thought to herself, her mind wandering to the beautiful days they had spent by Lake Lynn in Idris not long after their marriage. It wasn't a shadow-hunter ceremony obviously, or a religious one, just a quiet wedding in the garden of the institute, on the small part of land by the sanctuary that could be touched by those who were damned. _Damned. _Isabelle thought a bitter taste at the back of her throat. Simon wasn't damned, sure he wasn't perfect, he was geeky and shy, so unlike the guys who's attention she usually caught. He didn't drool over her the way they did, not after he was turned anyway.

He used to be such an awkward teenager, always trailing after a girl who was caught between one world and the next, the same girl who had ripped his heart out and ragged him into the shadow world, binding him to it eternally without even noticing. Isabelle didn't blame Clary of course, She'd really come to like the girl, like the little sister she'd always dreamt of having. Besides, the whole shadow world should be thanking Clary for bring Simon into it, Isabelle especially. He was different now, braver. He had confronted the angel Raziel himself, asking for help. A downworlder, asking the help of an angel. The thought alone was comical to Isabelle and she found herself chuckling slightly, her hand massaging the large, bump that was now her stomach.

She had to see him. He wasn't far, only at the sanctuary where he stayed until the baby was born and they could return to their home only a few blocks away. She had offered to stay with him, offered to share the bed they had moved into there and spend the rest of her time before the baby's arrival but he had declined, ever the smart one, claiming how there was no warmth in the sanctuary and he was hardly a source of good body heat.

She had to think of the baby now and a heating rune would hardly help since the runes no longer affected her during her pregnant state. Whether that was due to the pregnancy in general or the fact it was a half vampire child, Isabelle didn't know. So she had stayed in her room. The room she had grown up in. The walls were still black and gold, painted by herself and the furniture exactly where she had left it. Make up on the vanity table, the feather bower in such a bright pink it now made her cringe, the odd feather trailed onto the floor. Still it didn't seem right to her anymore, the bed felt wrong, empty almost without him by her side. It had changed.

Obviously it hadn't been the one to change. She had. Ever since Simon walked into her life as the new vampire version of him, Isabelle hadn't quite known what was happening to her. She felt a pull towards him, something tethering her to him without her consent. An invisible rope wrapped tightly around her heart that Simon pulled along with him where ever he went without his knowledge. Had he of known he might have let her go.

She hadn't know at first, hadn't realised what was happening to her until it was too late. Too late for her to back out and hide, too late for her to find some random guy to take her mind off him, too late to stop herself from falling. And she had fallen. She fell so hard, waiting in mental agony for the impact to occur, only to find herself in Simon arms.

He had caught her, after everything her mother had told her about men never catching you when you fell, and leaving you to rot when they got bored had been proved false. Of course, Isabelle had never thought of it to be falling, she always assumed when she fell in love- if she did at all- she would just feel a different sensation to the one she got when she broke men's hearts. The same rush of power from when she chewed boys up and spat them back out before they even knew what had hit them. But that didn't happen with Simon. With Simon she was powerless.

She didn't think she would literally fall, would feel the air being ripped from her lungs, feel her heart speed up to a dangerous level when she was with him, and cease to continue when he wasn't, but she was wrong. She had fallen and she would be the one who was damned if she had it any other way.

* * *

Simon sat in the sanctuary, perched on the end of a bed that had been moved in there for his benefit. Not that he could sleep right now, worrying every second that Isabelle would go into labour and he couldn't be with her. He never thought he deserved Isabelle. He'd personally thought he would marry Clary and live in the 'mundane' world and have geeky children with red hair and glasses.

Of course Isabelle had changed that as quickly as blinking her beautiful brown eyes, the long lashes darker due to the makeup she didn't even need. She was so beautiful and so strong, breaking the hearts of men left, right and centre. He never once in his life thought he'd get to be with her, let alone marry her, but something glitched in her, like when a game does a flip, leaving you suspended in mid-air with no way to get down.

Something came down when he was with her, like her so perfectly built walls crumbled just a fraction, and should Simon push the loose brick the whole wall would tumble down, exposing the inner beauty and vulnerability of the girl beneath. But Simon never pushed the brick because he knew the girl would come down with it. instead he worked at it, got to know every inch of her, falling more in love as he did so. Slowly, so very slowly she let the wall down, day by day, brick by brick.

He was constantly worrying now, if not for Isabelle and his second child then for his first one. Sebastian had come as such a shock for Simon. Not only had he not known that vampires could have children, Magnus having neglecting to tell him that detail, he also didn't know if he was ready to be a father. He would live forever which meant watching as his children deteriorated and he didn't think he could handle that, but there was something about Isabelle that kept him there, something about the terrified look in her eye that kept him anchored.

She never let it show to the others, to Clary, Jace and Alec, but Simon knew. He knew how scared she was of being a mother, scared she'd fail the child like her father had failed her by destroying her faith in men. She stuck through it though and Simon was by her side the whole time, holding her hair back when she had morning sickness, holding her hand when she was giving birth on the floor of their first home.

He'd stayed, even through the pain he watched her endure, through the probable fractures in his hand that healed instantly, through the unbearably sweet smelling blood that poured out of her, coating the floor in the crimson delicacy. He'd never lost the faith in her, the faith she'd pull through and be there, holding her child in her arms. And she had pulled through, she had held her child and she had been happy, Simon still couldn't wipe from his mind the beautiful smile that covered her face the first time she saw Sebastian. That was a memory that would stick in his mind forever.

Just as he ran his deathly white hands across his face, the door to the sanctuary opened. Jumping to his feet, Simon saw Isabelle stood in the doorway in a crisp white dress, her hair pulled into a high ponytail and her face slightly flushed. She was breathing hard Simon noticed and he began to panic.

Crossing the room in seconds, ignoring the burning he felt in his hand as his fingertips slightly crossed the threshold to the institute, he put an arm around Isabelle's waist, supporting her as she leaned against him.

"What's the matter? Are you okay? Is it the baby?" Simon asked in a single breath, patting down her body from her shoulders, down her arms and landing finally on her large stomach. She chuckled slightly, taking his head in her hands and pulling him up from his crouch on the floor.

"Simon, everything's fine" she said with a sweet smile, one that none of her family saw, only him. But this still wasn't enough, there must be something wrong.

"Are you s-"but he was cut off by her lips crashing into his. He stood frozen for a split second but then he didn't take long to melt into the kiss, such a familiar feeling, such a sweet familiar taste. Marvelling at the feeling of her body on his and how, even with the bump, the fit together perfectly.

Her hands left the sides of his face, trailing down and locking themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to her as his arms wound around her waist. He breathed her in, everything about her, the sweet taste of sugar on her lips, the fruity smelt of flowers, jasmine and lilies that rose off of her in a cloud of fragrance making him suddenly hunger.

He winced and pulled away, covering his hand with his mouth to hide the fangs that had protruded from is gums, but it was too late. She smiled slightly, running a smooth finger across his chin, wiping away the blood that trailed from his now pierced lip. She smiled at him sweetly, but there was something else hidden beneath it, something far from sweet, this was something you would see in the old Isabelle, yet it still managed to send chills down his spine.

"If you were hungry, you should of said so" she continued to smile as she walked closer to Simon pulling the hair away from her neck that had fallen out of it's ponytail, trailing down her shoulders in straight black tendrils.

"No Izzy" Simon said reluctantly as he tore his eyes away from her neck, from the pulse that beat beneath her pale skin and looked her in the eyes. He didn't know what he expected to see from her, Disappointment from his rejection? No, instead he saw humour as she looked up at him with a sly yet sweet smile. "I told you not until the babies born" he looked her in the eye and her smile changed, no longer the cunning smile she had before, now it was the loving, maternal smile she wore only for him and Sebastian, the smile that made his heart melt, the smile that took all his self restraint not to kiss off of her face.

"I'm only joking Simon, honestly" she said, walking over to the bed. Even carrying the extra weight she still moved like she weighed nothing, like she was an angel drifting across a cloud. Of course to Simon she was an angel, she was his angel, as was the little girl she was carrying around every day. "Its actually about the little'en" she said, the smile faltering on her face just for a second, but Simon saw it.

He was next to her in seconds, holding the bump and looking her over, checking for any sign of damage. She giggled slightly then shoved him back; far enough that he landed flat on his back lying on the floor.

"I just meant we need a name for her" Isabelle said humorously "Jeez chill out" she laughed as he got to his feet, rubbing his head slightly and sat down next to her on the white sheeted bed.

"Oh" he replied, slightly embarrassed, not that he could blush anymore but the tone in his voice was all that Isabelle need. She knew Simon worried about being over protective, but in all truth she found it cute. Most guys didn't fuss over her, knowing she could care for herself, but that didn't matter to Simon, he would protect her until the day she died. She used to like being the centre of attention but not anymore, now Simons was the only attention she needed and she'd die before she let him give it to someone else.

A thought flashed across her mind, a thought too hazy to fully understand. It was more of a memory than a thought, something that had happened but seemed absent from her mind. Something about living and wandering, words she wouldn't of associated with Simon or herself for that matter. She shook the thoughts away before looking back at Simon who didn't seem to notice her inner investigation and was still looking at her expectantly.

"How about Rebecca!" Simon blurted out suddenly. Had Isabelle not been a shadow-hunter she probably would have jumped five foot in the air, but as it was she was un-phased. Isabelle smiled at Simon with a sad smile. She knew how much that his sister meant to him, she was the only family to of accepted his _situation_ and she knew how much it had broken him that she was gone now. Jonathon had worked as hard as he could to break Jace after the bonding broke. But to break Jace he had to break Clary, and to break Clary he had to break everything she cared about - including Simon - So he did. Simon's family was slaughtered and left for him to find, his mother had only just accepted him back and now she was gone, leaving Simon to walk the world without a family.

Isabelle supposed it was better than watching them fall apart before his eyes, watching how he lived on past his nieces and nephews and all their children that follow, but she never said it aloud. His smile was still expectant knowing that he had to do anything to redeem himself, it was after all his fault they had died. In his eyes anyway.

Isabelle looked at him, the sad smile still on her face. _He doesn't have to walk alone_ she thought. _He has me._

_But for how long. how long until he walks alone._The nagging voice in her mind spoke. She started to let her mind wander but suddenly it fogged up again, making her feel slightly light headed.

"The sounds perfect" she said lightly, hoping to distract him for the sudden turn she had just had. She succeeded. He jumped to his feet, pulling her with him and after wrapping his arms around her began planting kisses all over her face. She giggled slightly, not a sound Isabelle lightwood usually made as he whispered thank you between each kiss.

She stopped him, holding the sides of his face with both her hands, staring into his deep brown-green eyes and watching as the wonder and happiness danced through their depts. She of all people knew what it was like to lose a sibling, Max having died when he was only nine years old. The memory of his still body haunted her mind to this day. How she could have stopped Jonathon, how she should of at least made she he stayed dead if only to avenge her brother. She pulled Simons face towards hers, locking them in a kiss to distract herself. It worked. Just as she became immersed in the kiss the doors to the sanctuary burst open.

Flicking his head round, Simon saw a red headed teen standing in the doorway, her hair falling down her shoulders to her stomach in soft waves so unlike her mothers. She was wearing a cute blue sundress with bare feet. Her face was flushed from running and her emerald eyes were screaming panic no matter how many times Simon did a double take on them. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong but Sadie had already begun to speak.

"You have to hurry!" she said between her rasping breaths "Sebastian isn't breathing" Had Simon still needed it, he was sure that his heart would have stopped beating.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter, none of this is pre-written so that's why updates take so long.**

**I'll even like an anon review :) **

**by the way, I don't know if vampires in TMI can have children but it doesn't say anywhere that they cant (at least I don't think so) and since werewolves can then why not!**

**REVIEW! **


	5. Chapter 5

**So this update has probably taken longer than the others, like I said none of this is pre-written so it's very much in progress **

**I don't own TMI or the songs referenced but I do own the characters of my own making and the plot**

**Please favourite, follow and review!**

* * *

Clary and Jace were just wandering past when Ash tumbled through the front door of the institute looking pale and weak. They didn't get a chance to question him before their eyes fell upon the soaked, unmoving body that was Sebastian on his shoulder. Without speaking, Jace crossed the room and grabbed Sebastian's limp body, throwing him over his should like he weighed no more than Gloria.

Sadie came hurtling down the stairs in a little blue sundress, her hair down and face fully made up. She had her ear phones in, a gift from Clary, and seemed totally oblivious to the situation before her. She looked up briefly as she walked past them but had to do a double take, fully absorbing the image before her with full interest.

Her phone fell from her hands, tugging the earplugs from her ears and letting the music flow out softly into the room.

_Kiss it all better,_

_I'm not ready to go._

"Sadie!" Jace said, his voice thick and worried for h is nephew in a way Clary had only ever heard in a situation concerning the safety of her and most likely, Ash. She could help feel a sudden rush of admiration for her husband at the moment. The way he kept his cool in the face of danger, whether his or someone else's and always helped his family, no questions asked. "Get Isabelle!" but Sadie stood still, her green eyes staring at her fathers shoulder and the lifeless boy hanging off it like a rag doll. "NOW!" Sadie didn't wait to be asked twice. She spun on her heel and dashed towards the sanctuary, her dark red hair flailing behind her as she went.

_It's not your fault love,_

_You didn't know,_

_You didn't know_

"Ash shut that thing up before I do!" Jace bellowed as he was already ascending the steps that lead to the infirmary. Scrambling along the floor, still out of breath, Ash finally got a grip around Sadie's phone, ripping the battery out, stopping the song mid-flow before throwing the device to the floor.

Unlike his sister, Ash had no interest in the mundane world, let alone wants to adopt traditions from it. He was perfectly content with his shadow-hunter life, his family all happily together in one place. But he couldn't help notice that could all come tumbling down very soon.

Ash stood frozen in place, staring blanking into thin air. _What if Seb doesn't make it? What if they all blamed me? What if he makes it and doesn't blame me? _The questions swarmed around Ash's mind, fogging his vision and reception towards the outside world. He knew Sebastian would make it, he had to! He wouldn't just leave Ash like that. He was strong, but he knew he would still forgive Ash in a heartbeat. It was just the way Seb worked and Ash hated the thought of his friend not being mad at him when this was his fault. In Ash's eyes anyway. _If _she _hadn't distracted me, we could have made it in time. If I'd not been so cocky towards the demon. If I'd just noticed before Seb did. If- if - if. _

Ash felt his blood boiling, his pulse pounding a drum beat in his ears, deafening him to the rest of the room. It was only when he felt the cool touch of a hand on his shoulder he realised someone had been talking to him. He spun around, too fast causing his mother to flinch.

Of course it would be her that stayed. She looked up at him, her big green eyes filled with concern and unshed tears of worry. She opened her mouth to speak but Ash wasn't having any of it. He already knew what she would say and didn't want to hear it. This was his fault and he was going to deal with it his way. His heart was beating to a new tune, bursting with a fiery melody of anger towards the red head, a sodden guilt towards his parabatai and the brutal hatred reserved for himself.

Ashley wasn't a depressed teen hating himself for no reason, of course he wasn't, but knowing he may as well of put his cousin and best friend in the infirmary himself for too much, the tip of the iceberg for him. He needed to calm down, to think rationally again and to extinguish the fires threatening to scorch his insides completely.

He had to get out, had to go somewhere no one would come after him so he could cool down. He turned on his heel and stalked off to the only place he would be alone, ignoring the concerned words of his other as he went. _Time to sort this out. _He thought to himself. He was going to cal himself, and then he was going to find Magnus. Time to find out who this girl was and he wasn't going to hold anything back from her if Sebastian didn't pull through.

He shuddered at the thought of their last conversation being what it was. Disorientated on Sebastian's part and, well Ash wasn't sure what it was he thought when he spoke about the girl. Was it admiration? Gratitude? Maybe even envy, he wasn't sure.

He kept walking down the stairs of the institute towards the darkness of the cellar, his own personal anctuary, his mind fuelled with the anger towards the girl and what he knew Seb would say when he woke up.

_It's okay Ash. It wasn't your fault Ash. I should have looked out more Ash. You can't have known he would use his tail with such speed Ash. _He winced at the thought of Seb's face as he said those things to him. About how he would fully believe his own words. Ash disappeared into the dank and dark cellar beneath the institute, the lyrics to Sadie's song possessing his mind and haunting him on the way down.

_Kiss it all better,_

There was nothing Ash could do to help him.

_I'm not ready to go,_

Seb is too young to die.

_It's not your fault love,_

He won't blame Ash for not looking, not helping, not hurrying.

_You didn't know,_

He didn't know it would attack him for his arrogance.

_You didn't know._

On more than one level, he should have known.

* * *

"Out of the way" Isabelle screeched as she came hurtling through the infirmary doors like a bull on a rampage, wanting nothing more than to reach her son. She saw him lying on the last bed on the right, his face pale and his body lifeless. He was currently without his shirt, showing the pale, toned muscles of his stomach. Magnus stood over him, blue sparks flittering around the teen's body and absorbing into the skin like water on a towel.

She was next to him in seconds, grasping his hand from the chair next to the bed and wincing at the sheer iciness to it. He felt like the warmth had been sucked from his body, leaving him colder than the average human. _He felt like Simon. _The voice in the back of her head whispered, luring her into the endless pit of doubt Isabelle had been tight-rope walking over since day one. One slip, one second thought and she'd plummet into the darkness who would grasp her in its merciless claws. _Just like with Max. _The caressing voice spoke again and Isabelle could feel herself trembling, choking out a sob before she broke down completely.

"Sebastian, baby" she cooed, her voice slightly higher in pitch from her current state. "Come back to me, come back to mummy" she held his cold hand between both of hers and rock slightly in the chair. "You can't leave me now, not before you meet Becky" she said with a forced laugh as she placed the cold teens hand on her overly large stomach., most people would shy away, jump back from the sudden cold, but Isabelle was used to it, comforted by it, she welcomed it.

She wasn't looking, but she knew Magnus's face would be expressionless, void of all emotion even while he juggled her first born child's life in his hands. It always was that way; Magnus saved his emotion for times of importance, like with Max and Blue, never her anymore. They used to be like brother and sister, but recently Isabelle found herself shying away from Magnus like her subconscious was aware of something she wasn't. But this was no time to dwell on it; her time was for Sebastian now.

"Will he be okay Magnus?" she said, her voice regaining some of its former strength. Magnus stayed silent but she could feel the tension radiate off of him from her comment "Magnus." She said, her voice growing stronger and angrier at his still passive face. "TELL ME!" she screamed, standing up so fast she began to feel dizzy.

"I DONT KNOW ISABELLE!" Magnus shouted back "I JUST DON'T KNOW!" Magnus's face finally showed something, defeat. "I'm sorry Izzy" he said, still shooting various sized blue sparks towards Sebastian's still body. "This is very strong poison. I fear it may go beyond my powers" Isabelle felt empty, like someone had shoved a clawed hand down her throat and pulled all her insides up through her mouth, letting the acid burn her delicate skin as they did so.

"But you can do anything" she replied, still holding Sebastian's hand and not caring how weak and childish she was sounding at this moment.

"I wish that were true Isabelle dear" he said sounding exhausted but still not resting. "I've only ever encountered this sort of poison once before and back then I had, let's just say, help" he said, letting his face sag slightly as sweat began to form on his glittery brow.

"Then get the help! Get anyone! I don't care" she screamed at him.

"I can't Izzy, I could and would never do that" he replied, still not looking at her but at her son instead. The boy who looked so young and so vulnerable without the colour in his cheeks and the spring in his step.

"Why not?" she shouted again "Is it money? Whatever it is I'll pay I don't care!" and it was true, she wanted nothing more than her family all well and happy, without Sebastian she knew her life would be that little bit darker.

"Because..." Magnus began, seeming lost in thought for a moment, letting a real emotion flash through his cat like eyes. Isabelle recognised it immediately. Loss. "Because they died" he said casually, fully regaining himself from his moment of thought like it never happened. Like the wall he built to block them out never fell, not even for that second.

Isabelle was silent, not knowing how to react. Magnus had lived for a long time, lost alot of people, but she never thought any of his warlock friends would leave or die for that matter, she saw them as invincible as well as immortal. She admired warlocks and the power they held, able to restrain her or hurt her or even kill her but they never did. She opened her mouth to speak, say something to console him, say anything but endure this silence but was cut off by the sudden darkness that filled the infirmary.

Sparks still flew, barely illuminating Magnus face as he worked, filling her with a sense of security that he was still there. The was a flash of red, briefly lighting the room so Isabelle saw Magnus as he fell backwards, hit by an invisible wall an crash onto one of the empty cots, falling onto the floor. Isabelle wanted to scream, wanted to warn everyone of the unknown attacker but her hand was still locked so tightly with Sebastian's and she had already sworn to not leave his side yet.

She could shout, she tried to, but the words failed her, fizzling on her tongue with a tangy metallic task that burnt her mouth and throat.

She searched frantically around the room, looking for any sign of light in the seemingly never ending darkness. There was another series of red sparks, whizzing around the room like fairies and converging on Sebastian like a magnetic pull.

Panic took over forcing her forward, swatting the sparks as best she could before they penetrated Sebastian's still weak and pale form. This proved worthless since the sparks past straight through her like she wasn't even there, leaving nothing but a burning sensation in her wake. She stood back helpless and watched, still holding his hand as the sparks illuminated Sebastian with an eerie red glow, showing all the angles of his skinny frame. _So much like his father. _She thought. The sparks travelled the lengths of his veins, lighting them to look like his skin was transparent, like you could see the deep red liquid coursing through his body.

_Eeeerrrrrrrrrk._

The noise dragged her eyes away from the strangely beautiful light show that was her son towards the window. She looked over, swearing that was where the noise originated from. She was just in time to see a figure, dressed in black drop out of sight. She leapt into action, wrenching her hand from Sebastians to move towards the intruder, no one who no doubt had her son being possessed this very moment, only for his grip to tighten and him pull her back

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**like I said, very short update but this is more of a filling chapter to be honest...**

**hope you enjoyed! **

**the song used it 'kiss it all better' by He is We. great song I love it! **


	6. Chapter 6

**So this chapter again isn't that adventurous... kinda just setting the characters up more now than anything but please keep reading! I will do my best to bring tha action back to you ;)**

**I'm still looking for a proof reader so if anyone is interested just PM me :) **

**Please review!**

* * *

Darkness that was Ashley's only companion as he sat alone in the dark cellar, the smell of rot and mildew filling his nostrils. How long he'd sat in his self punishing solitude he didn't know. An hour? A day? More? All he knew was that he was tired and he was hungry.

His mother came down a few times, left some water and food, tried to make conversation and after failing gave up and left. Ashley hadn't touched the food, but had managed to drain what he thought was three water bottles, it was hard to tell in this lightless prison he had incarcerated himself into.

He knew Sebastion was fine now, he could feel it. Right above his heart the rune was burning with something else, something that wasn't pain from the poison or the infection that could easily have taken a life that should have taken his life. Now Ash could feel how Seb was worrying for him. He laughed at the thought, a sick, twisted laugh riddled with sarcasm to the point it was venomous. Had he allowed the sound to leave his now dry and cracked lips he was sure that any bystander would think he'd gone insane, drove to madness by his own anger and guilt.

But he was fine now, the guilt was still there, there were some things that never faded fully but it didn't consume him anymore, didn't fill him with the self hatred it had now. All he felt now was dread. The dread of facing his mother after he'd hidden away from her calm, caring words, the dread of seeing his father, the look on his face as he looked down on his coward of a son. It hadn't passed his notice that it was only his mother that came down to check on him, never anyone else.

Most of all he dreaded seeing Sebastian, knowing he was okay filled him with such delight, like someone who'd seen an old friend after spending a lifetime apart but still he hated the thought of being forgiven, he didn't deserve Sebastian's forgiveness. He didn't deserve his kindness.

His anger had also calmed, tamed from the raging bonfire of pure ferocity to the gently kindled embers in his soul, enough to burn should you get too close but just enough heat given out to warm the motivation Ash needed in order to talk to Magnus. It was that motivation that Ash managed to drag his body from the floor. He ached all over, his muscles complaining to the slightest movement and his joints pooping in an over exaggerated fashion.

He ascended the stairs to the foyer, ignoring the aches, ignoring the dread, focusing on nothing but the embers, letting them grow but to still remain under his control. Controlling emotions was a gift learned from his father though he had yet to master it.

Reaching the door, Ash stopped. He let his emotions flow through him for a few seconds, that's all he'd allow, five seconds.

_5_

Sebastian's okay.

_3_

No one will be mad at him.

_1_

Time to find the girl.

* * *

The greenhouse was quiet. The was nothing but the sound of chirping birds and the fluttering of butterflies wings as Clary reached the top of the stairs. She stopped for a moment, breathing in the deluxe smell that she had come so quickly to love, flowers and dirt. She took a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. When they opened again she was looking into the dark blackness that was the New York City sky dotted with white stars that winked at her through the glass.

He hands itched for a pencil, craved for the feeling of the brush between her nimble fingers and she captured the intensity and the beauty of this image before her. She noticed how the sky was in fact a dark, ink blue, swirling into the greyness of the clouds that promised rain for another day. The stars, twinkling away were mixtures of white and the fluttering yellow. Her thoughts wandered around her mind, fuelling the urge to turn and run, grabbing her sketch pad and trapping this image before it could escape her, but a brief clearing of the throat knocked that away from her.

Looking up she saw him. He wasn't near her, not at all, but she could still feel herself melting as he looked at her, his golden aura filling the room with so much more beauty, so much she wasn't sure how much she could take.

He was standing on a slight ledge that overlooked a small pond Clary had insisted they put in. He had changed since last night, wearing dark washed jeans with a rip in the left knee and his signature grey button up shirt that had the top three buttons undone revealing his golden skin and the permanent runes that never tainted his skin, only perfecting it. He smiled at her, his boyish smile that he used to use to charm all the girls Clary remembered and she was sudden hit with a thought.

Ash had that smile too. _Poor ash. _She thought. She knew h blamed himself for what had happened, Jace used to be the same with his parabatai, but she still wished he could just move on as easily as his father had. He had her stubbornness that she was sure of.

Sebastian had woken up over an hour after Ash had disappeared into his little hidey-hole. Clary had gone down several times with food and water, tried coaxing him into conversations but Ash was a fragile boy, so sensitive yet so obliged to proving otherwise. He truly was his father's son.

Still he hadn't emerged, just stayed in solitude in the dark, no doubt punishing himself for something that was in no way his fault. Or from what Sebastian had told them all that was the case.

Jace must have seen the way her face changed from the worry over her son and was by her side in seconds wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling towards his chest. Clary had become so used to his, even if she still didn't quite believe it that she reacted on instinct, falling into his touch and moulding her body to fit his perfectly.

He ran his hand down her hair, petting it gently as it fell just below her shoulders in the untamed mane of deep red curls. The gentle shushing noises he made in her ear were enough to bring her back to the moment, momentarily taming her worry for Ashley as she pushed on his chest, just enough so she could looking into his eyes, those beautiful golden eyes.

"Do you think he's okay?" she asked, staring up at him as if he knew al the answers to the universe. He hadn't changed much over the 19 years she had known him. Sure he had matured and age had been nothing but kind to his features, keeping the angles perfect and complexion flawless but she still saw the cocky 17 year old boy she fell in love with.

He scoffed slightly but never tore his eyes away from hers. "Of course he will be" he said with an air of arrogance in his tone. "He's a Herondale" he puffed his chest out and plastered his cocky grin back on his face, as if that was enough to reassure Clary of her sons well being.

She gentles moved her hand from his shoulder, running it down his beautifully muscled chest, staring at the runes she could still see through his shirt. Her hand came to rest above his heart, feeling how the beating of it had increased. So far she'd come from the shy little girl who lived with her mum in New York, believing her father died in a war. Now look at her, she may have lost both parents during her time as a shadowhunter but look at how much she had gained. She had not only found her angel, she had married him, she was blessed with her three children and she would do nothing to change any of it.

She moved her hand in gentle circling patterns on his chest, just over his heart and the marriage rune that laid there, listening to his quiet growls of pleasure. He pulled back suddenly, his hand rubbing the spot above his chest. He looked at Clary seeing the cocky smirk plastered across her features.

"What was that for?" he exclaimed, pointing to the spot on his chests she had just punched. She shrugged slightly before replying.

"Thought your ego could use it" she said with a wink before turning and going to run from the greenhouse, but Jace was too fast for her. Before she'd even made it to the steps she felt the oh-too familiar tug on her waist and his fingers as the wiggled across her stomach. She broke into fits of laughter, tears brimming in her ears from the surprise tickling she was receiving. Her golden giggle sounded throughout the class room and ricocheted off of every wall, filling Jaces ears with the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

Her giggles subsided but the smile never left her face. Jace spun her around so she was once again facing him in the circle of his arms, the way she was supposed to be and he looked down on her beautiful face. the years had been generous to her, sure she was still tiny but she had filled out in all the right places giving her beautiful curves any one would die for. He skin was still pale but it added to the intensity her emerald eyes had to any who looked upon them. Her hair had darkened slightly from the right red it used to be to a more deep and luscious red. She still had her freckles, making her look a lot younger than she was and she wore the permanent runes of every shadowhunter along with the scars.

Some might be put off by the freckles and the scars but Jace saw them as the cherry on top of her perfection and just one other thing to love her for. Everyday Jace still couldn't believe she was his. Couldn't believe that she had eyes for no one but him and everyday it made him feel the little bit happier to know she would never leave him.

Slowly, so as not to scare he brought one of his hands to cup her cheek, the other staying on her waist and smiled as she seemed to lean into his touch. She may still be able to kill Jace in one of how ever many ways, and she still maybe one of the most skilled shadowhunters he had ever had the pleasure of meeting, but Jace still saw her as the delicate flower he had fallen in love with. The same 16 year old girl who had screamed upon seeing him kill a demon.

He laughed slightly as the memory and Clary raised an eyebrow in question. He shook his head and when she opened her mouth to question he closed the gap, covering her lips with his. She didn't hesitate to falling into the kiss, didn't tense at the contact, instead she melted into him, moving her hands to his shoulders, up his neck before entwining her small hands in his hair. The kiss deepened, speaking the words of all the years they had been together, shouting the disbelief that both of them felt to have found each other.

Suddenly he wasn't Jace Herondale any more, the husband and father that had helped save the species of shadowhunters from Jonathon all those years ago and she was no longer Clary Herondale the wife and mother who had been by his side the entire way, whether in her physical form of by the imprint she left on his heart. No, he was Jace Wayland again. The 17 year old who feel in love with the girl who slapped him for a ten percent chance she wasn't a fellow shadowhunter. The boy who had risked his life to save her from her father and her brother and she was Clary Fray, a 16 year old girl dragged into the shadow world her mother had worked so hard to hide.

They stayed this way for a while, both wrapped up in each other as two love struck teenagers, falling mercilessly into times long past, twirling and falling before becoming who they were. They pulled apart suddenly, both with the same look in the eyes, curiosity, as the smell wafted between them, breaking both of them out in wide grins.

"You smell it too huh?" Jace asked, trying his best not to laugh. Clary was out of breath, her cheeks tinged pink and her lips puffy and red from the moment, but she still replied.

"Isabelle's cooking" she said with a visual grimace as Jace tried to hold back his laughter.

"You'd of thought after 19 years someone would teach her to cook." He said before entwining his fingers with hers and both of them leaving the greenhouse and following the burning smell.

* * *

Magnus sat at the table in the dining room with blue perched daintily on his lap. He listened half heartedly to Isabelle as she hummed a lullaby to her unborn child while she tried unsuccessfully to cook. Clary and Jace had joined him not long ago and sat across from him, side by side, hand in hand.

Sadie however sat as far from the family as she could on Magnus's side, her head phones in and the beat of the music wafting slightly from the volume she played it. Magnus had easily gotten along with Sadie, she was a tough girl but it was plain as day she didn't like the shadow-hunters way of life, she had told him so herself.

She wanted to be a mundane, to go to school and parties, to fall in love and not have to worry about mortal peril for the rest of her life. So unlike her mother.

Sebastian hobbled in, moving his joints as little as possible so as not to aggravate his aching limbs and sat down next to Magnus. It was still a mystery to Magnus how he had been healed, him having been knocked out for some time according to Isabelle but it wasn't a matter to dwell on right now. Both he and Isabelle had agreed not to speak of the intruder to the others, why worry them over something that didn't cause any known harm. Of course that all depended on whether or not Sebastian healed properly or if he was harmed internally from the strange magic Magnus hadn't seen in over twenty years.

"SEBBY!" Blue had jumped from Magnus's lap and bounded over to the injured teen, wrapping her pale chubby arms around his neck while she stood on his lap. He winced slightly on impact but didn't waste any time wrapping an arm sound the small child waists and hugging her back.

"Hey Blue-bell" he replied, his voice sounding weak and hoarse, like someone who hadn't spoken in a long time, like every word pained him slightly. Magnus smiled at the pair and the nickname Sebastian had given her when she was still very young when she had lied down for hours in a patch of bluebells claiming she was one of them. She was a strange child for sure but she never failed to brighten the room.

It was funny, Magnus thought, the girl with her ink black hair and sapphire blue eyes reminded him of a girl at a previous institute. This must have been what Cecily Herondale was like as a child, before the mouth on her took over.

"Why don't you go back to daddy, eh?" Sebastian said, clearly still in pain from his previous night and the worry for his parabatai was evident in the way his eyes kept roaming to the door in the hope he would stroll through. They all knew where Ashley was obviously, he was 17 years old now and you can't go 17 years without at least one person finding your sanctuary, but they knew better than to disturb him. But it had just been a day now and his absence was becoming a worry to everyone, everyone but Sadie of course who just huffed and rolled her eyes at the subject.

"Fine. I'll go see auntie Izzy" With a huff of annoyance, Blue scrambled down from Sebastian's lap and ran to the kitchen. Causing an amused sigh from Magnus.

Barely minutes later, Isabelle came out, her newest abomination balanced on her arms as little Blue ran along behind her with a salt and pepper shaker in each of her chubby hands. Everyone stared at their plates, no one wanting to be the first to try whatever the dark brown mush Isabelle was serving today. Picking up his fork, Magnus picked up a morsel of the food on his fork, watching as the slop drained through the gaps in the silverware. He tried not to grimace as he moved to atrocious looking food towards his mouth but was spared the trauma as the dining room door flew open revealing a ruffed up Ashley.

His face was pale and his clothes looked creased from his time alone in the cellar. There were prominent bags under his eyes and he looked completely exhausted. Nobody spoke, all seeming to hold their breath. Everyone knew that Ashley had a delicate side, especially when he fell into his 'self loathing' state or the 'mopey state' as Sadie had so kindly named it. She of course had used a lot more profanities gaining her several pointed and disapproving glares from her mother.

Time ticked by and still no one said a word, they just looked at him as his eyes travelled from face to face, skipping past Jace and Sebastian entirely before landing on Magnus.

"I need to talk to you" Magnus wasted no time in dropping his fork back onto his plate, but instead of rising he just sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and holding his hands in his lap. Everyone knew this look. This was business Magnus, the Magnus people go to when they need the high warlock as opposed to the friendly uncle Magnus they had all come to know and love.

"And what might this be concerning young Herondale?" he said, his voice was soft, like a purr but everyone knew he was stalling for time, trying to find out what Ashley was talking about while everyone was around. It wasn't a harsh thing to do; it was just what Magnus was used to, always stall and have them on the edge of their seat.

"Privately" it wasn't a question, more a demand. Ash used the tone his father often used when he was being serious which in itself was a rather rare occasion. Magnus looked into Ashley's eyes for a moment, trying to fathom what was wrong with the young nephilim but found nothing.

With a sigh of defeat, Magnus pushed his chair and rose to his feet.

"If you'll all excuse me" he said with a nod towards the other occupants of the room, openly trying to ignore the curious glares he was receiving from the adults of the room. Without a glance back, Magnus left the room, Ashley close behind.

* * *

"And what seems to be the problem Ashley, my dear?" they were in the library, Magnus sat in Maryse's chair behind the large oak desk that his feet were currently rested on where as Ashley was pacing slightly, trying his best to loon everywhere in the room but Magnus.

"It's this girl-"Ash started but was cut off by a sharp burst of Magnus's laughter. He looked at him finally, shooting him a glare that could wilt even the brightest flower.

"I'm sorry my dear boy but a girl? Surely this is something you talk to your father about, I've heard he has quite the experience with the birds and the bee's" Magnus replied, waving a hand in the air as if to demonstrate bee's flying through the air.

"Not like that!" ash snapped, his patience quickly wearing thin. "I need to find her" his hands were now placed on the desk in front of Magnus as if to try portraying his severity.

"Go on" Magnus said, waving a hand to indicate that Ashley continue with his story.

"We'd just killed these four demons when out of the alley a greater demon appeared" Magnus sat forwards on his seat now, planting his feet firmly on the floor. "oh so now you're listening" Ash said, his voice fuelled by something Magnus could only decipher as anxiety and anger merged together.

"What demon?"

"I don't know, some blue reptile guy, said he had a run in with some guy called Will a while back" ash stopped after hearing Magnus chuckle slightly and looked at him as if to tell him to elaborate, but he didn't, so Ash continued his story. "Anyway, he poisoned Seb but before I could attack him this girl just came out of nowhere and killed it. The she disappeared, Poof. Gone." Ash said, gesturing with his hands like stars as if to show how she had 'poofed'

"What did she look like?" Magnus asked a slight icy edge to his voice as he spoke, like bad memories were forcing their way into his mind.

"She was about my age, maybe older and she was a bit smaller than Auntie Isabelle." Magnus nodded to show he was listening before Ash continued. "She had pale skin and runes and she wore all black so she was obviously a shadowhunter. But she had bright blue eyes, I mean BRIGHT blue eyes and long bright red hair" Ash stopped after hearing Magnus's sharp intake of breath.

Looking over he saw Magnus was sat back in the large oak chair, his hands gripping to the armrest like they were his only lifeline and all the colour had drained from his face. His yellow, cat-like eyes stared forward, as though he was seeing something only he could see. Like he was lost in a memory of days long ago and didn't have the strength to emerge.

After several attempts to get his attention Magnus spoke.

"I think you'd better go" his voice was cold and emotionless, like someone who had just heard some horrible news. His eyes were guarded, hidden behind the walls Magnus had spent over five hundred years making. Ash didn't question him, instead spun on his heel and stalked out of the room with a defeated sigh.

When Ash's footsteps had echoed down the all Magnus relaxed, letting his body give into the swell of emotion. his walls crumbled and fell as he dropped his head into his hands. Imaged flashed by with a surge of emotions, feeling of love and loss and bitter regret as he saw the girl. The exact girl from Ash's description. Of course they could be millions of girls with red hair and blue eyes, but not in the shadow world, and certainly not one who could sport runes of the angel. No, the girl Ash spoke of was one of kind and was also long gone. Lost to the merciless hands of fate.

Magnus breathed deeply, his heart beating a mile a minute. Fighting down the feeling he had long since buried. The love, the loss but most terrifyingly, the hope. He had dreamed of seeing her again, of watching her bright smile light up even the darkest of rooms. Watching her hair change colour with the force of her will and watch as the red sparks danced around her like flowers.

He had wanted to say it to Ashley, to let him know that girl he saw was impossible, but the words had lodged in his throat, blocking his airways and fighting to be freed with each breath. Finally they escaped and were said aloud, left to linger in the empty and all of a sudden thick and coking air.

"But she died"

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**not a great chapter I know but please let me know what you think! **


	7. Chapter 7

**So this chapter definitely took longer but ive been doing my A-level coursework :(**

**Got me some priorities ;)**

**Anyway enjoy this chapter as always i don't won anything but the characters of my own making, if you don't know them i made them. I also made up the childrens story, you'll know it when you read it. **

**thank you very much to my lovely Beta! I'd be lost without you :)**

**Review my lovelies!**

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"Knock knock," said a voice behind the door.

"You may not have noticed, but saying 'knock knock' is about as useless as actually knocking if you're just going to walk in any way," said the red-headed teen as her father waltzed into the room before perching himself lazily on the bed she was currently lying on.

Sadie had retreated to her room after hearing word that Sebastian was going to be okay. She may have hated the life the shadow-hunters led, but not under any circumstances did that mean she didn't care about her family, it was quite the opposite, really. Truth was, her family is the only thing stopping her darting though the front doors and into the bustling streets of New York, spending the rest of her days as a mundane.

Noticing her father wasn't leaving anytime soon, she closed the book she had been pretending to read with a huff and sat up from her face-down position, her long hair falling delicately to her waist. Being the evening, she was wearing a thick and fluffy black dressing gown bought for her by her father; everything he bought was black.

"What do you want, dad?" she asked, trying unsuccessfully not to roll her eyes. He sat leaning against the head-board of her double bed, examining the walls of her room like it was the first time he'd ever seen them, which was very likely.

"Has this room always been this colour?" he questioned, looking from the three pink walls to the glittering silver one behind her bed. On one wall, there was an array of posters ripped from mundane magazines and people dressed up that Jace had never seen before. Another was blank, and the last one had a large mirror that sat above a pure white vanity table that was coated in so much perfume and makeup that you could hardly seen the wooden surface anymore. "It's frighteningly like Izzy's old room."

"She did help me paint and decorate it," Sadie answered in a disappointed tone while rising from the bed and walking towards her window seat. The seat itself was soft purple velvet, and on either end was a fluffy blue pillow that looked eerily like fur. Sadie grabbed the one on the left and hugged it to her chest, snuggling her face into the comforting feeling as she sat on the seat and pulled her knees towards her chest.

Noting her discomfort, Jace rose from the arrogant position he had taken on her flowery bed, and walked towards her, suddenly serious.

"Sadie, please tell me what's going on with you," he said to her gently, more gently than she had ever heard him speak, especially to her. Still, she looked out the window, refusing to meet his gaze with the tears that were threatening to spill.

"Are you really that blind?" she asked quietly to her reflection that mirrored her in her window, overlooking the institute's courtyard. "Do you not know me at all?" she asked again, on the verge of tears and finally met his gaze.

Jace was taken back slightly at seeing the tears brimming in his daughters eyes, so much like her mother's but at the same time so different. Where Clary's eyes were fueled with anticipation and full of fire, Sadie's seemed cold and almost vacant, like something was missing from her, like she was fighting a losing battle. She looked away.

"Sadie," Jace said as he sat across from her, trying to once again catch her eye. "Speak to me."

She took a deep breath, buried her head in the baby blue pillow, and finally let the tears fall freely. She let the water that escaped her eyes fall onto the pillow, matting the fur together. She looked up then, her dark green eyes meeting her father's golden ones. It was rare for Jace to be this serious, let alone considerate. Sadie was sure that Clary had sent him here to speak to her, but she wasn't one to pass up an opportunity like this one. Plus, maybe if he knew, he could help her.

"I don't want this anymore," she cried in defeat, confusing Jace more than ever. "I never did," the vacant expression on her father's face should have made her feel guilty. She should have known that he wouldn't understand what she was going through, but for some reason it frustrated her. All the feelings she kept bottled up inside her for so long began to boil and bubble, her hidden rage began to break the surface.

"Dont you see!" she practically shouted as she stood up quickly, so quickly that Jace would have jumped if it wasn't for his shadow-hunter reflexes. "I hate this life! I don't want to be a shadow-hunter, and I'm never going to!" She'd expected her father to be furious with her, expected him to try shouting at her, and telling her all the perfect reasons for being a shadow-hunter.

Instead he sat with his back propped against the window, one leg crossed over the other and examining his nails like she was nothing more than background noise. "Are you even listening to me?!" Sadie roared, her temper reaching the breaking point.

"I heard you Sadie, I just don't believe you," he calmly replied. Sadie was speechless; How could he say she was lying, why would she lie about something as serious as her own heritage? She opened her mouth to speak, but he waved her off dismissively, and though it aggravated her, she knew better than to fight it. "Someone who fights as much fury as you do is a natural-born shadow-hunter, and if you really hated this life, you wouldn't try." Sadie was speechless still, and for once, was he right. "You were born a fighter, Sadie. It's obvious in your posture, and it's clear that you would be too much for the mundane world to handle. I don't know what's brought this on but it's certainly new," he stated with a knowing look.

Sadie, having found her voice again, retorted quickly with her own comments. "Of course I could handle it! I'm not a little girl!" she shouted at his still seated form. He clucked under his breath.

"I never said you couldn't, I said they couldn't handle you," Sadie was speechless again. "You're more like your mother than you know; So much bigger and better than anything the shadow world can offer you," he mused. He was on his feet now, standing before her so she had to crane her neck up to see his face.

She may have been tall, but he still dwarfed her in size. "But the shadow world is bigger than the mundane world Sadie, and if we can't hold you down, how can they?" Sadie's words were lost once again. How could her father think she was bigger than the world he worshiped so much, how could he think she was too big for this place? "Your mother was a mundane, and she jumped at the chance to leave that world. Well I may have played an apart in that," he added on with a sly grin to himself before continuing. "But without her, the shadow world would have crashed and burned, overrun with demons. We needed her then, and we still do now. And to think, she was only your age at the time," Sadie looked down, unable to meet his penetrating gaze.

"But-"

"Tessa too," Jace cut her off with a hint of longing for the beautiful warlock girl who had fallen in the final battle. She had died to save him, to save the last of the Herondale blood line; that much Sadie knew. Without her, Jace wouldn't be here today and neither would she. "She was dragged into the shadow world when she was just a bit older than you, but did she leave it?" Sadie knew the question was rhetorical but still felt the need to reply. She opened her mouth to reply but he'd beaten her to it. "No. Instead she saved the London institute and all of its occupants. She is an inspiration to us all, and the blood that once flowed through her veins, flows through yours too, Sadie. You can't deny that."

Tears were stinging her eyes again as Sadie found anything to look at besides her father. He was right of course. This is the life she was born into. This is what her blood was meant to do; How could she deny it? How could she turn away from her inevitable destiny? Of course, she wasn't happy that her father was right, but there was nothing left to do. When she turned 18, the choice would be hers, and she knew what she was going to do, even if it killed her.

"What happened to the little girl who I used to find in the training room after her bed time? Where's the girl who was wearing gear while she was still in diapers?" Sadie couldn't help but smile at that one. "Where's my little angel gone?" he asked once more, and this time, Sadie knew the answer, even if it pained her.

"She's right here," Sadie let her tears fall for the second time that hour, and looked into her father's eyes to see the loving look in them. It almost pained her that she was still set on the other world.

"She always will be," she said with a watery smile. Without warning, Jace pulled her against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders and kissing the top of her fiery hair. She sobbed into his shirt, clinging to it like a child, disgusted by her own weakness but not having the heart to pull away. The walls she worked so hard to build had crumbled down like they were made of nothing more than a cookie doused in milk.

But, she could build them up later. Right now she felt safe, she felt warm, locked in the secure embrace of her father. She allowed herself that weakness, she allowed herself to be a little girl again, the girl who needed her father's comfort more than food and more than water. She cried for however long into her father's shirt, letting his warmth encircle her, but she knew deep down in her heart that she would be leaving him.

* * *

"Gloria Jocelyn Herondale!" The red-headed mother yelled from the other side of the wooden door, one of many in The Institute's dormitories. "If you don't open this door right now then-" Clary stopped mid-sentence, and, from to the amount of giggling coming from the other side of the door, Clary knew that she wasn't getting through to her daughter one little bit. Sighing in defeat, she closed her eyes and leaned forward, aiming to hit her head gently against the dark wood of the door, only to find herself lying on the fluffy cream carpet in a heap.

Hearing the giggling from nearby, Clary lifted her head, turning it towards the small child that stood on her tip toes to reach the door handle.

"Sorry mummy," Gloria apologized, her small round face suddenly filled with faux-innocence. Clary tried to remain stern, to tell her daughter that she wasn't impressed with just a look, but the small smile on her daughter's face was too much. She rose from the floor, wincing slightly and her undoubtedly bruised ribs before tackling the little girl and hefting her up so she sat perched on Clary's hip.

"That's okay sweetie," Clary said, kissing the infant on the nose, while toying with one of her golden blonde ringlets. "But you know what time it is," Clary stated as she pointed her slender finger towards the window. Gloria furrowed her brow in concentration and followed the flow of her mother's outstretched arm before her sights landed on the window. She whimpered slightly and wrapped her chubby arms around her mother's neck, burrowing her face in her mother messy red curls.

"I don't want to," the little girl said, a slight tremor in her childish voice. Gloria was clever for her age, always fueled with questions about one thing or the other. She also had the strange ability to point out things no one else had ever noticed before, like how Magnus's sparks ranged from dark blue to purple depending on the magic he was doing, everyone else assuming them to be one colour. More than once, Clary had caught her painting runes on the walls of the Institute in black paint, but never had the heart to tell her off for it. Still, she was a very intuitive child, but she still had her fears, one of which being the dark.

"Its okay honey, mummy's here," Clary spoke softly, her calm voice a warm caressing hand to the little's girl's ears. She pulled back slightly to look at her mother's face with her big green eyes, the eyes that sparkled with unspoken questions and observations. "Ready?" Clary asked calmly, and after seeing Gloria's gentle nod, she smiled. She took her over to the cot and laid her down carefully in her white crib.

Gloria was a big fan of the colour yellow, and everything in her room seemed to be adorned by that colour. Three out of the four walls where a light yellow, the third being white and covered in drawings by Clary. The bedding on the crib was a light yellow with small bees trailing a pattern around the seams and she had a small bumblebee toy that never left her side. Most of her clothes were yellow, including the night-clothes Simon had bought her, complete with a large teddy on the front and the words 'un-bear-ably cute'. Clary had laughed when Isabelle had brought it into Gloria's room with a small note for Clary, reminding her of the awful t-shirts that Simon used to wear religiously. She wasn't laughing as much when Gloria refused to wear anything else to bed.

After pulling the covers up to Gloria's chin, Clary crossed the room to the small night-light that Maryse had bought after hearing of Gloria's fear, and switched it on, letting the white stars and moon swirl around the ceiling, filling the room with a soft lullaby in a language Clary couldn't understand, but it sounded French. She then turned the main light off and was relieved not to hear a sound from Gloria's crib.

"Night baby," she whispered as she went to exit the room.

"Mummy," a delicate voice drifted from the crib, stopping Clary with the door half-shut. With a sigh quiet enough Gloria would miss it, she re-entered the room. Gloria was sitting up holding the covers in her chubby fists, the material making a sort of tent from the way she had brought her hands to her mouth. "Will you sing for me?"

Clary had never been one for singing, and she had only sung to Gloria- or any of her kids for that matter- when they were tiny. Clary took a deep breath, seeing the look on her daughters face before replying.

"You know mummy doesn't like to sing," Clary's heart dropped when she saw how her daughters face had fallen. She had looked excited and happy; ignorant to the dark before, but now she looked deflated and almost scared.

"Daddy singed to me," Gloria replied in quiet voice. Fighting the urge to correct her daughter speech at a time like this, Clary ignored the slip up and instead walked towards Gloria's crib, placing one of her hands on her blonde head. Gloria's hand instantly reached up for Clary's arm, poking and prodding at the runes that were still there, un-faded. Clary couldn't suppress her smile at this; Gloria had always been fascinated by runes, asking to see them drawn, wanting to read the book long before she was old enough. She even tried drawing her own voyance rune on the back of her hand with a marker that ending up leaving black smudges every where the child had been.

"And what did daddy sing to you?" Clary asked sweetly, watching as her daughter traced the strength rune with her index finger.

"The demon pox song," she replied, blatantly oblivious to the meaning of the song. Gritting her teeth and mentally reminding herself to kill Jace later, Clary continued speaking to her child in a soothing voice.

"Did he now," Clary stated. She could feel, rather than see Gloria nod. "How about a story then?" Clary added quickly, desperate to try to rid Gloria's mind of the song passed down by the Herondale's. Tessa had the lyrics written down, and kept them with her at all times. When she died, that was all she had given to Jace, like a sort of apology, leaving Jace as the last of the Herondale bloodline.

Gloria squeaked slightly, and without being told, settled back down into bed. Clary smiled at her enthusiasm. Gloria loved books, and she had her own bookshelf currently occupied by picture books and the odd story book that was actually read to her, one of which was a very old copy of A Tale of Two Cities. Clary had no idea how that had gotten in here, since Gloria struggled to read even the simplest of child stories. Jace must have brought it in. He treasured that book after finding out who the note inside was from, and also who it was for.

Dragging the yellow cushioned chair away from Gloria's window, Clary sat by her daughters crib and began telling her a story. Instead of telling her a story from a book, she told a story that she had heard Isabelle telling Sebastian when he was still young. It was a story that had fascinated Clary, who in turn, had insisted Isabelle teach it to her.

"This is the story of the black angel," she began in a soothing voice, her hand absent mindedly stroking Gloria's hair. The little girl squeaked again before falling silent. "This is how the story goes: there was once an angel, an angel of immense beauty, so much more so than the other angels. She was incredibly talented too. Her paintings would cause everyone to stop and stare, and when she sang, even the most beautiful sounding song birds stopped to listen, and when she fought, no one could beat her."

Clary could feel Gloria's excitement, knowing she had never heard this story before.

"She caught the eye of every angel, men falling to her feet, but she never noticed. Not even when Raziel himself presented himself to her did she accept," Gloria gasped, a reaction Clary couldn't help but laugh at. Gloria knew the story of Raziel and Jonathon Shadowhunter even at her young age, but it still never failed to impress Clary how much she understood.

"In a fit of rage, Raziel banished the girl, turning her wings black as a sign of her betrayal before throwing her down to earth like a fallen star. She lived on earth for many years with no one finding her; she kept herself hidden deep in the forest, living off wild berries and the water from a nearby stream.

One day a huntsman was injured in the forest, and was left dying by her stream. Having such a kind heart, she couldn't let him die and so she saved him. She sang him back to health and fed him the berries of the woods. She soon fell in love with the huntsman, but he didn't feel the same way. But the huntsman was smart, he knew he would be greatly adored by his village for bringing an angel back and would be paid greatly by the king, so he tricked her. He said that he wished her to be his wife and the girl, blinded by love, agreed.

He took her to the castle, and when the king saw what she was, he was amazed. He paid the huntsman and sent him away. He then had the girl locked in the-"

"Highest room of the tallest tower!" Gloria suddenly burst out, sitting upright in her bed with a triumphant smile on her face. Smiling, Clary pushed her back down to lie on her bed an looked down at the amazed look in her large emerald eyes.

"That's right sweetie, the highest room of the tallest tower. The girl knew now that she had been tricked, and wanted nothing to do with the human world anymore. So one night, she stood on her balcony and looked to the stars. She hoped and she hoped her plan would work, prayed to the angels for her wings to still work. She jumped from the balcony and flew away, taking her broken heart with her and swearing to never love, from that day forward, forever and ever."

"To love is to destroy," Gloria said quietly, her voice void of all emotion. Hearing the words froze Clary immediately. Too many times she had heard that, and so many times she had buried it from her family, and now they were back to haunt her. She opened her mouth to ask Gloria where she had heard them, but she was fast asleep and judging by her position, she had been for a few minutes.

She kissed her daughter on the forehead and walked to leave the room, shaking slightly from the fear that had overcome her. She went to shut the door again, but heard Gloria speak once more.

"The door," she whispered in a sleepy voice. Losing her patience, Clary replied, still not leaving the doorway.

"What door honey?" she asked, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

"Her door." Clary was still frozen and couldn't understand what was happening. Gloria was asleep, the tone in her voice proved that, the way it was cold and emotionless, lacking the childish innocence. But Gloria didn't talk in her sleep, she never had.

"Her?" Clary asked more to herself than to the other occupant of the room. Shaking it off, she decided to leave Gloria to sleep, she couldn't wake the girl now and to talk to someone who wasn't conscious seemed foolish to her. When she entered the hallway, Clary froze once again and looked forward. The wall opposite her had always bore a tapestry of Raziel and the Mortal Instruments; Gloria had pointed it out enough times for her to remember it. But now the tapestry was gone.

In its place was a large dark wooden door, not unlike the hundreds of others in the institute's hallways, except this one had an engraving across it, words surrounded by what looked like vines and thorns. Under the engraving was a rune, a rune unlike one Clary had ever seen before. It was a complex array of curves and lines, and no matter how hard she tried, Clary couldn't decipher its meaning. Clary studied it, looking it over, willing it to disappear, but it didn't. She shook her head and blamed it on tiredness, told herself it was a dream, but the door was still there.

She could hear Gloria again, her voice muffled by distance and a wooden door, but Clary understood her words. The same exact words were engraved on the door in a scripted writing from a time lost long ago.

"The Black Angel."


	8. Chapter 8

Walking through the Institute at night had always been a strange experience to Clary. The way the witch-light wouldn't flicker like a candle, and the eerie shadows it cast across the walls, lighting the hall in a strange blue illumination was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

After her little moment with Gloria, Clary was more than cautious walking through the Institute, the fear of someone lurking in the shadows, or another door appearing from nowhere chilled her to the bone.

She was on route to the kitchen, hoping to find someone, anyone who could help her understand who the door belonged to and the true story behind The Black Angel. Clary may not have been the brightest girl in the world, but she knew when there was more to a story and she was sure this is part of that.

Relief flooded over her when she heard the beautiful and melodic tune echoing from the music room. Memories of the first time she had heard Jace play was drifting through her mind.

"You play like you've lost your only love," she had said.

"Unfortunately, my one true love remains myself," he had replied to her.

She smiled now at the thought, the way he had joked around with her, claiming silly insults like she was too small to talk up to. He was different now, Clary knew that. He no longer made fun of her, but that was because he no longer had anything to hide. He knew now the power that love had over people, and he embraced it rather than shunning it. Clary's thoughts drifted back to their wedding day. The dress, the flowers, the golden-haired groom.

She was ripped painfully from her thoughts and memories when her forehead made contact with the dark wood of the door. She stumbled backwards slightly which led to her tripping on the carpet. She landed on her back, sprawled across the floor. She noticed then that the music had stopped and there were footsteps echoing towards her. Had she been the teenage girl she once had been, Clary would have  
rushed to her feet, trying her best to not make a fool of herself in front of Jace.

Jace could fall off of a ceiling beam and still land perfectly on his feet, unlike her, who ended up in a heap on the floor. The door opened, throwing bright yellow light, so different from the witch-light, across her face.

With a slight wince she lifted her head from the floor slightly and opened one eye, squinting it towards the light. She sighed at the sight of Jace's silhouette in the doorway, illuminated perfectly by the golden glow of the lights inside.

"I've heard it all before," Clary grumbled, still lying on the floor.

"I know you have," Jace said with a laugh, leaning against the door frame like he was still the egotistical teenager from seventeen years ago. Clary assumed that he still was, sometimes.

"Fancy helping your lawfully wedded wife off of the floor?" she asked, gaining her a laugh from him.

"You gonna say please?" he taunted, suddenly standing above her. She gave him a childish pout and crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes still closed. Before she could open them, Jace had pressed his lips to hers in a gentle and sweet kiss. She was just beginning to fall into the bliss and splendour of it when she felt herself pulled off the floor.

With a squeak she reacted on instinct, wrapping her arms tightly around Jace's neck and burying her face in his collar, inhaling the sweet scent that was Jace. She slowly opened her eyes to see his golden ones staring back at her intently, a cheeky look in his eyes.

"Problem, Mr. Herondale?" she asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Not at all, Mrs. Herondale," he replied in the deep husky voice that made Clary melt, as though she had turned into butter. "Shall we go to bed then?" he asked suggestively, indicating with his head which way their room was.

"Of course," Clary replied with a sly grin of her own before jumping out of his arms. He seemed disappointed to not have her close to him anymore. "If you stop singing the demon pox song to our children," she said, pointing a finger at him. She had expected him to pout like a child, try to win her over with his so-called innocence, but instead he smirked.

"That, I'm afraid would be too hard of a condition," he replied, and Clary opened her mouth to retort, but was cut short by Jace's continued lecture. "The children need educating my love, and who better to do so than their loving father?" Jace's whole speech had been spoken with him looking anywhere but Clary, his head held high and hand on his heart, like he was singing the national anthem in front of millions of whenever Jace spoke nit seemed to his ego that he was throwing a speech out towards hundred of so called admirers.

"There's nothing to educate. Demon pox isn't real," Clary had her hands on her hips looking scarily like her mother. Jace could tell that she was trying to keep her voice calm. He spun on his heel, waving a hand in the air as he retreated down the hallway.

"Oh ye of little faith," he said in the voice he used often when he had proven someone wrong. Clary stood still for a moment, arms crossed and foot tapping, half expecting him to run back towards her; To her dismay, he didn't. In fact, now she couldn't even see which corridor he had walked down and was starting to panic. Memories of Gloria's words were in her mind and they were nagging away at her, drumming into her subconscious where it would slowly eat away her sanity.

Giving up, she ran after him, calling his name all the way. She needed answers and he was the only one she could think to ask for them right now. She ran for what felt like hours, her heart beating in her throat. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, sure she'd seen a witch-light flicker, or a door that hadn't been there before.

"BOO!" Clary fell backwards for the second time that night with a scream. Her back made contact with the soft, yet unforgiving carpet as Jace laughed uncontrollably above her. She stood up quickly, too quickly for her liking, and glared at Jace.

"Who's the Black Angel?" she half asked and half demanded. The smile fell from Jace's face in a second before his guard went up. "And don't lie to me, because I need to know."

Something in the way Clary had spoken must have clicked in Jace's mind because he sighed and leaned against the wall, running a hand over his face.

"How did you find out about her?" he asked, his voice sounding distant, almost vacant.

"The door across from Gloria's, where the tapestry was," she heard Jace's irritated sigh, like he'd never planned her to find it, which Clary had guessed he hadn't. "You hid it didn't you."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Memories."

Clary threw her hands up in annoyance, looking up to the ceiling as though it held the answer.

"You'll need to give me more than that," she said sternly, trying to hide the anger in her voice when she spoke to him.

"Can we walk and talk?" he asked, not looking at her, the deflated tone still in his voice. Before she could give her consent, Jace had already walked off down the hall and she had to half run to catch up with him. For every three steps she took, Jace seemed to have taken only one. A sign she knew meant that he was agitated.

"There was this girl-" he started but was cut off by Clary's sigh in what he assumed was jealousy. "Not like that! She was here when I arrived." Seeing Clary blank look he continued "When I was 10." still nothing. "She was 18." hearing this seemed to calm Clary because she let out what sounded like a sigh of relief and Jace fought the urge to laugh. Which given the thoughts swirling through his mind of long buried memories, wasn't hard.

"She was the first person I ever really opened up to," he said nonchalantly. "Found me training in the training room when I was 10, just a terrified and traumatized kid. She spoke to me, she helped me. Turns out we were in a very similar boat." Jace smiled slightly, thinking of the late nights they spent throwing knives at targets and playing pranks on Izzy or Alec.

"She became a big sister to me after that, always looking out for me, helping me train and showing me how to beat Alec. She was part of our little family. Apparently, she had turned up when Alec was only a baby, so she'd been around a while, and practically helped raise them both. Helped raise us all," memories too powerful surged through his mind. Her hair, her eyes, and the way she would push him to breaking point.

"What was her name?" Clary asked quietly, obviously seeing how much of a big deal this was for her husband.

"Rosalyn, but we called her Rosie."

"Pretty," was all Clary said, not knowing whether she was over stepping a boundary that ought not be crossed.

"She was," Jace said, not even looking at Clary when he said it. Clary knew it was silly, she was nearly ten years older than he was, but this was Jace, he could have any girl he wanted whenever he wanted them; Clary had a right to be jealous, didn't she?

"Was she the black angel?" Jace laughed slightly at this. Not enough to prove he was happy, or even cheering up, but enough to show he wasn't drowning in despair like he used to, even behind his masked face.

"That," He began with an amused thought "Was dear Izzy's fault." He glanced at Clary briefly and obviously saw the blank expression on her face because he continued. "Apparently, when Izzy was small, she used to call Rosie an angel. And Rosie being the kinda girl she was, always refused, saying she was darker than any angel could ever be. That there were horrors in her past that no one should ever experience."

The smile was gone from his face now, replaced by the mask Clary had almost forgotten he had. "She never told me, but it makes you wonder what an 18 year old girl could possibly do to arouse that kind of self-depreciation," he sighed and began to walk slower, less purposefully and more like he was being forced into something he didn't want to do.

His hands were bunched into fists at his sides, and Clary could see the tension in the set of his shoulders. She longed so much to reach for him, reach into the part of him that hid all these memories, and let them loose. Let them free. Even if it was just for her to see.

"What happened to her?" Clary asked, cringing slightly at how quiet and seemingly innocent her voice was sounding. "Rosie, I mean."

Jace stopped and it took Clary a moment to realise and stop herself, but she was in front of him in a second, gazing up at his golden face but not touching him. His face masking all his emotions but his eyes failed to do the same. She could see everything he was feeling as he stared blankly ahead of him, seeming lost in either his thoughts, or the memories that had their claws in him. Claws he'd fought off for so long. Claws that weren't about to let go.

"She died," was all he said, his voice void of all emotion, but his eyes still told a different story. He looked down at Clary and she could see it all so clearly now. The loss, the despair, the longing, and the pain of a little boy losing his best friend. Too young, Clary thought. Too young to have lost so many.

Suddenly, his faced changed and he smiled at her. His face the direct contrast of the message his eyes were telling a moment ago.

"You win some, you lose some," he said with a cheery voice, but his eyes still looked sad. "Besides, I believe we were going to bed, were we not?" he asked with a wink. Clary smiled. She knew he wasn't okay, but now wasn't the time to press for more answers. She found out what she wanted to know but there was still something that didn't make sense. How did Gloria know it was her door?

She pushed the thought from her mind and smiled wider, entwining her fingers with Jace's.

"I do believe we were."

* * *

Ashley was sitting by the easel he had by the window, a paintbrush in his hand and another one by his ear, currently dribbling blue paint down the side of his face, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, his attention was fixed solely on the painting before him that sat unfinished. He wore his pyjama bottoms which were black, like everything else he wore, and a white t-shirt which he'd already splattered with paint.

His room was the same as anyone else's in the institute. Four walls painted to his liking (his being painted blue and orange) with an en-suite through one of the two wooden doors. He had a large window overlooking the courtyard and a large four-poster bed that sat opposite a large dark wooden wardrobe, which was currently open, the clothes spilling out onto the floor.

The walls of his room, which usually sat bare, were now covered with papers, each one filled with a different image. Whether it was piercing blue eyes, or vibrant red hair burning through in the darkness.

Ash knew that the girl was real, he knew he hadn't been imagining things, and Magnus' reaction had proved that. Sadly, Magnus had left the Institute to return to his flat in Brooklyn with Alec, Max, and Blue in tow, wrecking any chances Ash had at pressing him for more information.

That brought him to his current situation, staring at a half blank canvas, fretting that the red wasn't the exact right red, that the intensity of the crystal blue eyes wasn't quite the right amount. In a heated frustration, he threw the paintbrush at the canvas, splattering his work with a streak of deep red, deep enough to look like blood. It looked now as though someone had cut the painting, leaving it to bleed out through the gash left behind.

He ran his paint coated hands through his hair, tinting the golden curls slightly with essences of red or blue, evidence of his frustration. He stopped with his fingers still locked in his hair and listened. Dropping his hands he tried his hardest to listen to the sound slowly growing louder and closer. Footsteps. He looked at his clock and noticing it was long past one in the morning wondered who could possibly be walking the halls at this time.

Everyone had been on edge after the intruder that healed Sebastian, and Ash was no exception. He walked silently over to his door, hearing the footsteps weren't far away now, and threw the door open and crashed into the intruder, pinning him to floor.

He held a hand on the person throat and realised it was a man by the adams apple. He noticed however that it was too young to be a man by the voice that followed, fuelled by half-hearted profanities.

"Jesus Ash," the intruder coughed under the pressure Ash had put on his throat, restricting his breathing slightly. "Only came to see if you were up."

"Seb?" Ash exclaimed, pulling his hand away "What are you doing? I thought you were that intruder guy!"

"Did I scare ya?" Sebastian asked with a cocky undertone, though his face was flushed. Seeing the death glare Ash was shooting him, he thought better of the teasing. Raising his hands in mock surrender he continued, "Alright mate, chillax," He said. "Mind getting off me though?"

Ash jumped to his feet, forgetting he had been sitting on Sebastian.

"What do you want Seb? It's late."

"I gathered that much by the colour of the sky," Seb replied pointing to the nearest window. "And by the way, you're all worked up by the painting situation," he said, indicating to Ash's clothes and hair. "You can't sleep either."

Ash looked at his hands and shirt, noticing the amount of paint that had now dried, realizing that he must look quite a mess. It then hit him that he hadn't shut his door when he jumped on Sebastian, meaning his room was on display. Ash never let anyone see his room, no one. Especially not when it was covered with paintings of the strange and mysterious red-head he had fantasisd about recently. Not in a loving way, more of an angry way.

Sebastian seemed to have noticed the door situation too, since he was currently 'ostrich necking' as his mum called it, to get a look into Ash's second sanctuary. Jumping back, Ash slammed the door, wincing at the loud thud it made after it closed. Sebastian merely shrugged.

"You can't blame a guy for trying," he said nonchalantly. "Any way, fancy some training?" Seb must have seen the way Ash's face changed because he smiled at his parabatai, knowing training was one of his 'let outs'. Well, that and painting, not that he'd ever seen any of them. "Let's go then."

They both walked to the training room in a comfortable silence, Ash in his pajama bottoms and painting shirt, Seb wearing jeans and one of his goofy t-shirts with the writing on the front like his dads. This one said 'Everything is amazing and nobody's happy' not as cheery as the ones he usually wore, but at least it wasn't mentioning the shirt and someone's bedroom floor.

They came down the steps by the front doors at the exact same time two other people came down the opposite ones. It was blatantly clear who the couple were by the mixture of red and gold, and the way the two seemed almost joined at the hip.

Both teens stopped, hoping not to have been noticed by Ash's parents, and slowly turned on their heels to walk away silently.

"Ashley Herondale!" Ash stopped, his mother's voice shattering all the hope he had to escape. "What exactly do you think you are doing out at his time?"

He turned slowly, hoping not to look as weak and scared as he felt. Sure his mum was lovely and usually an absolute delight to be around. She could make even the saddest of people happy, that's the main reason Ash avoided her when he was moping. But the second that tiny red-head got angry, she was like a volcano, or a nuclear bomb. Ash wasn't sure which one it would be just yet, and wasn't in the exact position to think it out.

He saw her standing exactly how he had imaged. Detached from his father who was watching over the whole thing from the bottom stair, arms crossed and a smug smile on his face. Clary however, stood a lot closer than Ash had expected. For such a small person, she moved fast. She had her hands on her hip and an expectant look on her face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was saved the trouble of an excuse when the Institute's doors burst open, sending a chilling wind through the entrance and showing the rooms occupants the torrential rain falling from the sky and hitting the ground like bullets. That however wasn't what made Ash's jaw drop.

Standing in the doorway was a girl. A tall girl, not Isabelle tall, but getting close. She wore baggy black jeans that were ripped at the knee's and patched up in other places, along with ratty worn combat boots. She had a weapons belt hanging off her hip and a baggy black vest that was stuck to her body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. One wrist had a bandage and the other a black band.

She stood there, staring at each of the rooms occupants in turn, a sly smile spread across the face, highlighting the intensity of her crystal blue eyes. Her bright red hair was still braided, but darkened by the rain and plastered to her forehead. Ash opened his mouth to speak when her gaze landed on him but was saved the trouble by someone else. Someone who had beaten him to it. The one person no one had expected to speak.

His voice was far from calm, it sounded shocked and broken, so unlike how it usually was with it's cocky and irritating arrogance. Ash stared at his father and the recognition on his face when he spoke with such pain in his voice and shock on his face. Ash wasn't the only one who stared at him when he spoke up in a broken whisper.

"Rosie!"

**Look a that! two updates at once, you lucky people ;)**

**this is infact due to my guilty feeling for now updating last week and the fact my wonderful Beta said it would be better as two chapters though initially it was just one...**

**enjoy even though I don't own any of the characters besides the ones of my own creation. the others belong tot he lovely C.C as she shall now be known!**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**another update! its been so long! **

**as usual I own nothing but the characters of my won creation. if you ahvent heard of them their mine :3 I also own the plot but everyone else is Cassandra Clare'!**

**please Review and favourite an follow!**

**Thank you to my wonderful Beta!**

* * *

Everyone was still; nobody wanted to break the freezing silence that had fallen over the entrance of the Institute. All eyes were flickering between the golden-haired man and the drenched red-headed teen, one look was crossed between shock and anger, while the other was smug, the rain still pelted her back and the wind shook the door on its hinges.

"Sebastian," Jace said, his gaze never leaving Rosie's. "Go get your mother." No one moved, they just stood there staring at Jace. The sternness in his voice was beyond anything any of them had ever heard, and the tension in his shoulders is tighter than it had ever been before.

"But-"

"NOW!" Jace shouted, still not looking at him. Sebastian didn't need to be told twice, he spun on his heel after looking at Ash with a face like a hurt puppy, before speeding off towards the sanctuary, where he knew his mother would be.

"Going to let me in then?" She asked, her voice lingering softly in the still open doorway. "It's blowing a gale out here," Rosie said, already walking further into the Institute. The large wooden doors slammed shut behind her, effectively drowning out the rain. "Well isn't that better," the girl continued with a smile and a slight shrug, standing on the usually dark red carpet, but her clothes and hair dripping water made it darker, as dark as blood. Jace exploded.

"Who do you think you are?!" he bellowed, taking purposeful strides towards the girl who gave him a half amused smirk in return, crossing her arms over her chest like she was waiting for something opposite to Jace's rage. "All these years and that's what you have to say! All these years without so much as a word from you!"

Jace's face had taken a turn Clary had never seen before, his mask had crumbled entirely, leaving not even the slightest rubble behind, his golden eyes were burning with a fury she had never witnessed, worse even. This was more than anger, this was hatred; pure, blood-thirsty hatred. She knew Jace well, or as well as anyone could, and she knew that he was angrier than he had ever been before. Suddenly the image of the lion she used to see him as swelled in her mind, and it wasn't as amusing to her anymore. Worst of all, the prey to his rage attack didn't seem to be taking him seriously, like he was just a cub and she was the lioness. He may as well have been background noise for all the attention she seemed to be paying him.

The girl's faced, if possible, had softened slightly at his words though, like she felt guilty for leaving him this way. It was only there for a second, and then it was gone. If it wasn't for her 'artist's eye', as Jace called it, the ability to see every tiny detail in a short amount of time, she would have missed it entirely. Something, however, didn't add up in Clary's mind. Jace had said this girl had died. That would explain the shock of seeing her, but it would not account for the pure hatred.

"How could you do this to all of us Rosie?! How could you have done that to poor, innocent Izzy! How could you do it to Alec! How could you do it to me," his voice had softened on the last part, like it had taken all his energy not to break down; it probably did. "I thought you died," his voice had sounded broken, almost defeated, and Clary was reminded of her time in Idris, when Jace had appeared in her room looking tired and roughed up, wanting nothing more than to lie down and wake up next to her once in his life, no matter how wrong it was.

Suddenly he looked 17 again; the poor damaged boy who had told the story of the falcon killed by his father- her father. Her heart ached for him; her heart broke for him, yearned to comfort him. She wanted nothing more than to reach out with her hand and touch him, to ensure he stayed put together, but she feared if she so much as brushed him slightly he would shatter. Jace wasn't one for weakness, but this girl had struck something in him, enough to exhaust him completely. Like he'd simply just given up.

Something had changed in the girl's face. Where she had once looked smug, she now looked furious, like she had her own anger boiling inside her.

"And whose fault is that?!" she shouted at him, causing Jace to flinch, like he was being scolded by a parent. This wasn't right; Jace was never this weak or vulnerable, not to anyone, but she really got to him.

"Why would you think I was dead? Well?" she shouted again and Clary could see Jace trying to shy away, trying to not showing anything through his posture. He failed miserably."Because Maryse said so?" she was towering over him now, even when he dwarfed her in size."Did you never question that there was no body? No funeral? No! You just accepted defeat and hid away like a child! Not once did you ask about me, never once did you try to find the truth; you just gave in because it was the easiest thing to do! You're a coward Jonathon, and–"

"That's enough! Clary shouted standing suddenly beside Jace, her hand laid on his arm, feeling as some of his tension relax at her touch. "You don't get to just walk in here and shout down at him like he's nothing! He was a child, a child who had already lost so much, and was too exhausted to deal with it again! How would he know that Maryse, the woman he considered a mother, had lied to him!"

Clary could feel her anger surging inside her like a bonfire, out of control. What right did this girl have to storm in here and shout at her husband, the man who had already suffered enough? Something clicked in Clary's mind.

Jace had said it earlier, Rosie had been 18 when he met her. That was well over 20 years ago, yet she looked no older than 18 where she stood right now. Jace seemed to have noticed it too for his eyes narrowed slightly and his back straightened, regaining his former stance as he glared at the girl like he hadn't just cowered like a child.

"Clarissa, is it not?" Rosie asked, her arrogant stance back, like a fire doused in water. "I heard you were protective, but I believe a thank-you is in order," she said cocking an eyebrow Clary's way.

"A thank you?" she shouted, her anger reaching breaking point "You storm into my home! Shout at my husband, and hold your head high like you own the place! Who do you think you are? What could I possibly have to thank you for?!"

Her eyes followed Rosie around since she had began walking, or rather circling the three of them like a bird of prey, until she finally stopped by a podium, leaning carelessly against it as she began studying her nails.

"Well that makes sense of course, Clarissa my dear but-"

"How do you even know my name?" Clary shrieked, interrupting the girl who seemed un-phased. Rosie continued to talk like she hadn't even heard her.

"Saving your son from the greater demon that almost prevented his father's birth hundreds of years ago seems like a good point for gratitude. Maybe even an apology," she said, adding the last bit in later. "But, for now I'll settle for the gratitude," she said, looking at Clary with a cocky smile, one so much like Jace's. Clary began to wonder if this is where he learnt it from.

"A greater demon!" Clary shrieked, turning on her son who had stayed deathly quiet for the past few moments, his face lost of all colour, his golden eyes dimmed of their light and stared into nothing. "And Marbas, no less!"

Again, Rosie acted as if Clary hadn't spoken. "As for how know your name, it would be foolish not to. You are after all the famous Clarissa Morgenstern, the girl who brought down-worlders and shadow-hunters to battle together." Clary flushed slightly at thinking her powers had made her famous. "The girl who killed her boyfriend instead of her brother. Not to mention, I've been keeping an eye on you."

"What?" Clary said, her face turning back to girl, and she wasn't the only one. Even Jace and Ash had looked up for this answer.

"Not you specifically," she replied, still looking over her nails, which Clary could now see were the same bright red, apart from each of her index fingers which she had painted black. "More him," she said softly, pointing to Jace but not looking at him.

"Me?" he replied, shocked by her response "Why?" he asked, suddenly sceptical, eyeing the girl with deadly accuracy, like he was taking in every inch of her. Rosie laughed in response.

"I didn't want to leave!" Rosie exclaimed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world "I was forced out by that blasted woman you call your mother." Clary could see Jace tense, could see his fists clenching and wanted nothing more to reach out to him, but now wasn't the time. "I couldn't just walk out on you, any of you. I had to check you were okay," she said suddenly soft. She walked towards Jace and he tensed more. He bowed his head before she spoke again, refusing to meet her eyes. "I was still with you Jace. You just never saw me there."

The silence that stretched out after that was almost painful. It was so chilling that it felt like shards of ice were forcing their way through Clary's pores as she watched Jace try his best to look anywhere but the girl. She herself looked like nothing had happened, the softness in her voice didn't match the guarded look on her face, so much like Jace's.

"I think you should get some rest," Jace finally said, beginning to walk towards the stairs, the route he was previously traveling, back on track to his and Clary's bedroom. "We'll talk in the morning after I call Alec and Magnus."

"Great, a family reunion," she said with a half-smile, half sneer, like the idea both excited and repulsed her.

"Ash, show her to her room" Ash opened his mouth to ask as she raised her hand, but Jace had already continued, his voice sounding overly tired and distressed. "The one opposite Gloria's," and then he was gone.

Clary gave one last look at her son and a glare in Rosie's direction before following suit. Ash gazed longingly after them, suddenly wanting nothing more than his own bed to curl up in. To let all this blow over and be some sort of horrible dream. Since she had saved him, Ash wanted nothing more than to meet the girl, whether to thank her or shout at her, he wasn't one hundred per cent sure. Now his wish had come true, and he just wanted it to end.

"Come along golden boy," the girl whispered in his ear, making him jump. She just laughed lightly.

"Golden boy?" he echoed behind her, realising that she was already walking away, in the correct direction, no less. Someone obviously knew where she was going. He followed, feeling like he had nothing else to do.

They passed by his door while they walked in silence and Ash could feel the pull that his bed had on him. The temptation to crawl away and hide grew more, even if he knew he could never escape her gaze.

"Here we are," she said lightly, stopping in front of a door Ash had never seen before. He tried to get a better look at it but she was already blocking the way. She looked at him. She was slightly shorter, about three inches at a guess, but her gaze was so intense it intimidated him even now, even while she smiled up at him. "Night golden boy," she said with a wink, obviously fond of the new nickname given him, before slipping through the door and disappearing.

Everything after that passed in a blur for Ash. Somehow, he had managed to find his way back to his bed and crawl under the covers. His mind buzzed with everything he'd witnessed in the last hour, maybe even less. He closed his eyes, begging for peace, but his even his dreams were disturbed. The backs of his eyelids seared with a beautiful pair of piercing, crystalline blue eyes.

* * *

"MUM!" the teenage boy yelled as he tried to catch his breath, for a shadow-hunter he had definitely inherited his father's laziness from his mundane days. Sure he could run but that was with the help of runes, without them he just wanted to do nothing and waste the day away. "Jesus Christ, woman."

Sebastian had broken the news to his mother, expecting her to give him some sort of explanation since Jace didn't look in the mood to provide one. Instead, the woman darted past him through the door and was now sprinting through the hallways of the Institute, baby bump in hand and son in tow.

Isabelle never ceased to amaze Sebastian. She was such a strong woman, even in her vulnerable and pregnant state, she could still rampage through the hallways like some sort of charging bull.

When he finally reached the entrance hall to the Institute, he saw his mother. She sat on the steps leading towards the dormitories, head in her hands, and her ink black hair forging a thick, silky curtain around her face.

"Mum?" he said gently, worried he'd startle her, and also trying to catch his breath at the same time. "Mum, are you okay?"

She replied with a string of words muffled by a matter of things. One was her distance on the other side of the large hall, and two was the fact that her face was so far buried into her hands, it was a miracle her face didn't force it's way through her palms.

"I didn't get a word of that," Sebastian said, his voice trying to be light even though his heart felt heavy from the thought of his mother's blatant pain. Isabelle raised her head and her hair fell on either side of her pale face, framing it perfectly. Even though she ran the same distance as him, along with added weight, she didn't seem flushed at all. Her breathing was even, like she'd only walked a short distance and her face remained it's natural colour, whereas Sebastian was flushed pink and breathing more heavily than he'd care to admit.

"I said," Isabelle started, her voice sounding tired and deflated, so unlike herself. "Are you sure he said Rosie?"

Too afraid to speak under his mother's strong penetrating gaze, Sebastian simply nodded. He hated seeing his mother this way. His mother, the strong independent woman who could fight an entire army and win without her hair falling out of place. The woman who could marry a vampire, despite the odds and manage to gain two children out of it, not even worrying about the consequences. Of course she didn't know the effects being half vampire provided, but Sebastian did. For example, he would sit up most nights, not getting more than four hours of sleep and still feel like he'd slept an entire day. He was still trying to figure out if it was a gift or a burden, but now wasn't the time to evaluate his sleep patterns.

Isabelle nodded solemnly before she spoke, her eyes not meeting her sons. "Okay honey, maybe you should go off to bed now. It's late," it was a demand more than it was a suggestion, and Sebastian didn't waste any time in following it.

Isabelle stood and began ascending the stairs, walking in the opposite direction than the sanctuary.

* * *

*Knock knock*

Clary grumbled at the unwanted sound, she hadn't been asleep long, and now she was being interrupted yet again.

"Jace, if that's one of your siblings then I swear to the angel-" she growled out before burying her head into the pillow and wrapping her pale, scarred arms around it. Jace chuckled in response.

"You'll what?" he said tauntingly, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

"Wouldn't you like to know," was all she said before she buried her face in the pillow again. Jace tried not to laugh at her, she so cranky when she was tired.

He climbed silently off the bed and walked towards the doorway, dodging his discarded clothing on the way. It opened to reveal a very pregnant, and very disheartened Isabelle.

"Tell me this is one of your sick jokes," was all she said, the tone in her voice making it obvious she was forcing back tears. Jace just shook his head and watched as Isabelle, if possible, slumped even further, her hands going automatically to the large bump on her stomach, cradling the unborn child, protecting it.

"I'm so sorry Izzy," was all he could say. He'd managed to push the thought of the inevitable reunion coming in the morning from his mind for tonight, just enough to let him sleep peacefully, but now Izzy had brought it all back to him with a wave of panic.

"Have you told Alec yet?" she asked, the concern for her biological brother showing through her falling façade.

"I called him, but I didn't tell him why," he replied and Izzy nodded her agreement. "Him and Magnus are bring the kids tomorrow," she nodded again.

"So it's really her then?" she asked, looking Jace in the eye, his were trying to hide emotion, hers were brimming with unshed tears. Not trusting himself to speak, Jace just nodded. Seeing Isabelle this way broke him, but he knew he needed to stay strong for her. If this situation was breaking Isabelle of all people, then it could break anyone.

She nodded back, her tears falling down her pale cheeks and dripping to the floor. Unable to bare it, Jace pulled Izzy to his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and hers stayed on the baby bump.

"We'll get through this Izzy," he murmured, and she pushed off him then, her mask back firmly on her face, but the tear trails were still on her cheeks.

"Of course we will!" she exclaimed, the fire back in her system. "Tomorrow I'm getting my answers! And no red-headed ghost of a girl is going to keep them from me!" she stated before storming off back down the hall towards the sanctuary.

"That's my Isabelle," he said quietly before retreating back into his room, back to his Clary, and shutting the door. He left his worries about the inevitable encounter at the door, but he knew he would have to face the facts in the morning. His answers would come tomorrow, but tonight, he was safe. He would have one more night of normalcy, that he so truly deserved.


	10. Chapter 10

**Another update! and happy new year to everyone! **

**I hope you enjoy this chater and i don't own the mortal instruments or any references to the infernal devices. all rights go to Cassandra Clare the wonderful woman! **

**enjoy, favourite, follow and review! **

**it will make me a very bunny on this lovely news year ;)**

* * *

The morning light filtered through the gap in the curtains, showering just a bit of the dark room in the luminous glow of the newly breaking day. Tiny dust particles filtered through it, highlighted by it luminous beauty and the golden aura that erupted through the small gap.

She smiled when the light hit her sleeping face, warming the pale skin there. She opened her eyes, revealing the crystalline blue orbs that shimmered and shined in the yellow light. Rosie was never a morning person, it was one of the many things on her list of things she hates. The morning was something people dreaded, even if they wouldn't admit it. There was always something terrifying about the beginning of a new day and the horrors that it potentiality carried. Rosie wasn't an exception to this, sure she wasn't scared of the unknown and that fear had left her a long time ago, but she knew her place. She was a night-bird, a shadow in the dark, and she always would be.

_Classy. _She thought as she looked won to see herself wearing nothing but her underwear, her only clothes having been discarded thanks to them being soaked. They now lay strewn across the room in various places, just tossed there with no care. The only thing that she had taken any particular care with was her weapons belt which now sat on the back of the chair to her right.

She scanned the room, taking in every detail from the peeling wallpaper, to the spiders cradled in a web in the dark corner above her wardrobe. After a quick inspection she noticed nothing had been moved; the room remained untouched. 21 years had passed, and not a bit of cleaning had been done in her room, but all the other dormitory rooms were spotless. She tutted to herself under her breath while she shook her head._ 21 years and the room hasn't been touched_, she thought with a discontented sigh. She suspected Maryse was the source of the lack of attention, and did a quick search around the place, looking for anything more to hold against her.

The wardrobe still sat in its place opposite the bed and next to the bathroom door, both of which were made of dark wood and engraved with vines and thorns. Rose thorns. To her left was a vanity table bare of anything other than a blanket of dust, also made of dark wood, and the mirror showing no coherent image when she looked at it; the dust that had accumulated over the years was thick. One her left was the window, the grand window that looked out over the large patch of lush green grass that sat outside the sanctuary. The view was currently hidden by the floor length grey curtains that hung from the bronze bar, but she remembered the scenery from all the years before.

Having lived in this very room for 14 years, Rosie knew that behind the curtain was a window seat, like every other room in the Institute had. The cushioned material was once a deep purple velvet with grey pillows on either end. On each side of the window seat on the wall was a dark wooden built-in bookshelf, both bursting with books of all audiences and genres. They were stacked neatly at first, all side by side until the population grew too much. Now she could see how some were crammed in horizontally and diagonally, anyway to make them fit.

Three of the four walls were a dark grey, similar to the curtains but with a floral black pattern of roses and thorns. The wall behind her bed, however, is plain white was and covered by tattered bits of paper that now looked more like parchment. Each one was covered in ink drawings and surrounded by little notes, poems, song lyrics, and some even had letters of apology that were never sent.

She climbed off the bed, dragging the white covers onto the floor after her. She looked down at the mess and smiled. The butterflies that were on the covers had merged together, making sinister monstrosities as opposed to them originally being beautiful, delicate, and quaint. The quilt was the only coloured thing that seemed to be in the room. Each of the butterflies wings were delicately painted with an explosion of pink, blue, and purple all merging together like ink in water, while others were left blank.

That's how she saw the world, though. Some people are simple, black and white and pointless; easy to read. Then there are others who are an explosion of colour, a complex mix of emotions all thrown together to make them incoherent and hard to navigate. Like Isabelle and like Alec. _Like Jace_, she added solemnly before shaking the thoughts from her head. Not today.

She walked to the bathroom door, her fingertips gently brushing all the spines of her books on the way, coating the pale skin in a layer of grey fluffy dust. Upon entering the bathroom, she was struck by how clean it was. All the porcelain shimmered like polished pearls, the metal of the shower sparkled and winked every time she moved. There wasn't a speck of dust to be seen.

With a quick smile, she jumped in the shower and turned the water on, letting her body be attacked by a freezing wave before being calmed and warmed by the heat as it raised in temperature. A punishing ritual of hers. If you want something good then you need someone bad to counteract it. It's all about the balance. She let the water run down her face, sticking her hair to her back and waist. She winced when the water hit the rest of her body though, the hot water penetrating into every gap of her delicate skin. She cursed under her breath before reminding herself so sort that out later.

She stayed in the water for a while longer after she'd finished washing, waiting for the water to become a caress to her skin rather than the ambush that it was now, but she waited in vain. She finally gave up the wait when she saw the water turning a deep red.

Emerging a few minutes later wrapped in a fluffy white towel, Rosie was greeted by someone sitting on her bed. This someone had golden blonde hair. She looked him up and down, him having not noticed she had entered the room since his nose was currently buried in a leather-bound book, each parchment-looking page covered with a cursive ink script, the same that droned the papers on her back wall.

Ash was wearing black jeans and a grey top, his hair a mess of golden curls. His eyes scanned the pages with a certain grace, his fingers turning the pages with pristine care, as if he was afraid they'd burst into flames at the slightest touch. He was lost in this new world, Rosie's world.

"Ahem," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and suppressing a smile as Ash jumped from the bed, dropping the book on the floor and then checking it for damage. His face was a mask of concern and panic as he picked the now closed book off of the floor like he'd just dropped a snow globe or an antique.

"Oh, Rosie! Hi. Sorry I was just, urm, sorry, I'll go," he stammered in a rush of breath, looking in every direction but her face.

"Pray tell, Ashley, why might you be in my room?" Rosie asked looking over the boy's face which was now flushed with a dainty pink colour.

"Mum told me to bring you some clothes," He mumbled under his breath, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "She said your old ones were gone," Rosie nodded, remembering how she had arrived in her old room last night wanting nothing more than to climb inter her night-clothes (she hadn't grown since she'd left), only to find the wardrobe as bare as a stripper's chest.

Rosie didn't reply to that, just walked over to the pile of clothes on the bed and began to rummage through them, smiling slightly at the change in Isabelle's wardrobe over the last 21 years. Something about Ash's discomfort amused her and she wasn't sure why, something about the way his cheeks were tinged pink, or how he scuffed his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. Something about being in a room with her had disheartened him and she had it in her right mind to make it worse for him still.

With a sly smile the devil would be envious of, she grabbed some of the clothes at random before waking over to her vanity table. She dropped the pile on the surface creating a mushroom cloud of grey dust. Turning around, she saw Ash looking at her in a timid way, like he was asking permission. She smiled sweetly at him then dropped the towel to the floor, letting it pool around her feet in a tumble of white.

Ashley's face changed drastically. His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped and he slapped a hand over his eyes, his face turning redder than before. _Success_, she thought to herself.

"Oh. Urm. Okay," He sputtered, desperate to break the silence.

"What's the matter Ashley?" Rosie asked, feigning ignorance. He moved his hand but began looking ever where else in the room than where she was standing without her clothes. He sputtered again but the words were impossible to understand, and she agreed with herself to relieve him of this torture. She grabbed the clothes and threw them on, thankful that her and Izzy were at least the same size in some places.

She then stood wearing a pair of black skinny jeans that she turned up slightly at the bottom since Izzy's legs were still longer than hers, and a long-sleeved grey shirt that was slightly too big for her and hung lightly off one shoulder revealing her black bra strap and a line of black ink on her shoulder-blade. _Thank the angel for long hair, _she praised as she re-wrapped the murky white bandage around her wrist, wincing as the material scraped the skin. She silently thanked that Ash didn't look at her for too long and only saw the front of her.

"I'm decent" she said lightly, Ash's face was no longer red, but it was clear that he still felt awkward around Rosie. His eyes looked at her face and only her face. She smiled at him, a sweet smile, so unlike anything she'd ever done before. "Anything else you wanted?" she was almost embarrassed at the light and friendly tone her voice had chosen to take. Rosie was not very friendly, and she sure as hell wasn't light, she was the black angel and it's about time that everyone knew that.

"Oh. Yeah. Uncle Alec's here now and so is everyone else. They're waiting for you in the sanctuary," he replied, his face back to normal in a flash, so much like his father could do, but his cocky mask was somehow half-hearted, like it was lacking in arrogance. It was then that Rosie noticed how awkward and nervous Ash had been around her.

Jace had never been like that, had he seen her with no clothes on, he would look her up and down, make a snide remark and leave like he'd just seen her in normal clothing. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing special. Not Ashley though, he looked embarrassed. _Guess you're not 100% you fathers son_, she thought with a smirk to herself.

"That'll be for the vampires benefit, I'm assuming," she said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, Uncle Si- wait. How did you know there was a vampire living here?" Ash was alert suddenly, like a dog who'd just caught the scent of something that was not quite right. It amused her slightly, but not as much as his embarrassment, but a bit.

"Well then," she said ignoring his question and casting a quick sideways glance to her bed, the journal was closed, the leather band that bound it shut lying open. She had a sudden panic inside that maybe Ash had read a little too much for her liking, more than he should have done. He hadn't questioned anything, though, and that was a good enough sign to calm her frayed nerves. "Let's face the music," she said and gestured to the door. She cast a look at the book again, still praying he only read the trivial entries about her day and not the more in-depth stuff, so to speak.

"Some secrets need to stay hidden," she whispered with one last look before pulling the door shut and following after Ash down the halls to the sanctuary. One thought on her mind kept swirling around like wine in a glass, _but all is revealed in the end._

* * *

"Jace is this one of your sick jokes?" the raven haired boy asked. Everyone was in the Sanctuary with the exception of Magnus who was coming later with Blue and Ash, who had disappeared after speaking to Jace.

Alec had gotten the call from Jace late last night, much to Magnus's complaints, telling him to come to the Institute the next morning, so he had. Upon arrival, he had been ripped into a vice-grip hug from 'Planet Eater'-as Blue had taken to calling Isabelle now she was that pregnant- who had then dragged him to the Sanctuary just to drop the bomb.

Rosie. Of all the people to come back from the dead, it had to be her didn't it? Alec wasn't ungrateful, he'd lost enough people in his time to know how much you can wish and wish for their return, but he never thought it would be her. If anyone was to come back from beyond the grave, he'd want it to be Max.

"Why do people keep saying that?" Jace said incredulously. He was sitting against the fountain with a very tired Clary leaning against his shoulder, her eyes drooping, and her hair a wild red mane as always. Little Gloria sleeping soundly on her lap. It was no secret that Alec and Clary hadn't exactly got along brilliantly when they met, or very much after that, but she had saved Jace's life more often than not, and she had saved Isabelle as well as him; you couldn't hate someone who kept saving all the people you loved.

"Well you've had your moments," Simon said, still looking 16 with his arms around Izzy's waist resting on his next unborn child, Rebecca. He sat on the end of the bed him and Isabelle shared, and Sebastian was leaning against the nearest wall.

Sadie and Max were against the far wall by the door, both looking out onto the grass that was speckled with crystal drops of dew, or the remnants of last night's storm. Max was in a button down shirt and jeans, his dark hair spiked up like Magus's. Sadie had hers falling down to below her shoulder blades, she must have cut it last night. Sadie always did have a talent for fashion and all that other girly stuff, Magnus and Izzy had of course been great supporters of that, so she probably had no trouble cutting her own hair.

"Zip it Bloodsucker," Jace said half-heartedly as he pointed a finger at Simon gaining him a glare from Izzy. A glare like that from normal Izzy was a threat but one from pregnancy was like an execution notice.

Alec smiled because despite the situation, Jace was still being Jace, even if he wasn't one hundred percent into it. He heard the Sanctuary door open and turned eagerly, expecting to see Magnus walk through in all his glittered glory with little Blue on the end of his hand. Instead he was greeted by a very timid looking Ashley and a girl who looked about 18 trailing behind him with her usual arrogant posture.

Ash went to stand with Sebastian and he obviously didn't want to stand with the girl for too long. He left her in the doorway, the morning sunlight bathing her skin. There was a collective intake of breath throughout the room, one of which came from his own mouth. The other came from Isabelle. Clearly, she had only heard the rumor, and had not seen the proof.

"Hello," she said, her voice the same as it had been throughout his entire childhood, like a whispering caress on his mind. How could Jace be mad at her when she was like a second mother to Alec when he was a child. She was the first to know of his sexuality, and his crush on Jace. Anyone who didn't like her was crazy.

She hadn't aged a day, her long red hair was falling to her hip, not straight yet not curly at the same time; sort of wavy. It was now clear that it wasn't all bright red, nearer the bottom the hair slipped into a deep orange, slowly brightening as it got to the ends. Her hair looked like a flame; a beautiful flame.

Her pale face looked the same, no color, but it added to her radiance, to her angelic beauty; it's no wonder Izzy called her an angel. Her eyes were shinning, but Alec couldn't tell why because her face was the perfect mask, the same mask Jace had learned to use. There was nothing bad about this girl. She was an angel, a beautiful angel and Alec could hardly believe she was here, looking at him even when her gaze was elsewhere, staring right through him.

He heard a sound, sort of like a whimper come from behind him but he couldn't look away, too long she'd been dead to him, he was scared that if he looked away she would disappear. Suddenly, someone else entered the picture. Someone who had thrown their arms around the girl's neck and hugged her, someone with ink black hair in a ponytail.

Alec wasted no time. He ran across the room and threw his arms around them both. His girls, his sisters. He listened to Isabelle's soft sobbing and the sound of Rosie's laugh, her beautifully melodic laugh was like music to his ears. It was like he'd been deaf for the last 21 years and suddenly his hearing had returned. Such bliss and beauty in one simple sound. A voice spoke behind the group and they pulled apart, but neither Lightwoods, former or not, would move away from the once dead girl. Isabelle stayed on her right, Alec on the left as they looked for the owner of the voice to see Jace standing before them in an unreadable look.

"Sorry to break up the reunion," he said snidely. "But, I believe we were here to get answers."

"It's not a reunion," Rosie said in her all-knowing voice. "Not yet," she was looking at Jace now and it was clear from his pent-up fists that she was getting to him.

"I'm not coming over there," he said, directing the words towards the trio. "You can count me out," he made a wiping gesture looking strangely like an old dance move.

Rosie spoke under her breath, "that's not what I meant." It seems Alec was the only one who heard, because Jace still looked indifferent and Isabelle was still sniffling softly. Before he could ask what she meant, she had continued. "But you came for answers and I'm willing to give them," she held her hands up in mock surrender. Jace seemed to relax slightly at that because his hands returned to normal and he took a deep breath before returning Rosie's look, his face still masked. She looked around the room from face to face, examining them all, taking in every inch of them now that she had their attention; even Sadie's . "What do you want to know?" she spoke again

"What are you?" Jace said without hesitation. Every eye turned to him like he was crazy and he met every look. "What? Look at her. She's exactly the same as she was the day I met her and the day she left. That was 21 years ago. You can't be 18 forever unless-"

"You're not human," it was Simon who answered this time but every eye went straight back to Rosie, and everything he'd said had finally sunk in for Alec. She was the same as he'd ever seen her, young and beautiful.

"I'm the same as Tessa Grey," she said quietly, like she realized that speaking it out loud made it true. "I can wear the runes of the angel and fight demons, but I can also do the magic of a warlock, and I don't age," her confidence seemed to grow slightly at this point. She stated the information as a fact, like there would be no arguing with it.

"Do you shape-shift?" this time is was Izzy who spoke, though unlike Jace, her voice was soft and caring like she was worried for Rosie, whereas Jace still sounded angry.

"No I can't," She said returning Isabelle's gentleness. "My father was not an Eidolon demon, so I did not inherit that ability. Instead, I received the magic of the average warlock, as well as the ability to wear runes and fight demons," she sounded half-robotic. Even with the emotion in her voice, it was like she was reciting from a textbook, or like she'd used a pamphlet like Simon was going to when he 'came out'.

"How old are you?" This question came from Clary who remained seated by the fountain, looking more awake and suddenly curious, her emerald eyes glistening with unasked questions.

"I don't know-" Rosie began but was cut off by Sadie and her rude remarks.

"How can you not know?" she asked incredulously, so much like Jace.

"If you'd let me finish Sadie Theresa Herondale, I would tell you," she said looking a Sadie who seemed to shrink back slightly. This was strange, Sadie rarely backed down to people; she was a mix of two incredibly stubborn people. Alec wondered how Rosie knew Sadie's first name, let alone her second, but now wasn't the time to ask. "As I was saying: I stopped counting when I reached my 500th birthday, but at a rough estimate I'm nearly 900 years old."

"That's older than Magnus," Alec said more to himself than to Rosie, but she smiled warmly at him anyway. The smile brought back a flood of childhood memories spent with Rosie.

"Why did you leave?" It was Jace now, his voice was a lot calmer but the fury was still simmering beneath the surface. Anyone who knew Jace knew when he was suppressing an outburst, and by the calm and collective look on Rosie's face when she answered him, she knew too.

"Maryse," was all she said and at first, and all eyes turned to her, some disbelieving, some curious and others that looked at her like she'd just grown a second head. Isabelle was one of the latter. "She found out what I was, and threatened to call the Clave about me. To tell them what and who I was," she took a deep breath like the memories were hard for her to bare, but Alec thought that if you'd been threatened by the Clave, it's normal to be a little afraid. Even if you were a 900 year old Warlock-Shadowhunter hybrid. "She said she didn't want filth like me near her children," Rosie's voice had taken a dark turn, her words were sharper, more to the point and acidic. "It was either leave without any of you knowing, just disappear into thin air, or give myself to the Clave and let you all be punished for harbouring a fugitive."

"A fugitive?" Alec had finally found his voice and Rosie turned her eyes onto him, watching as the bright blue orbs softened and seemed to turn sad from the sound of his voice.

"Yes Alexander," she said softly and Alec found the way she said his name strange, almost familiar in a way. "I was protecting you all. I'm wanted by the Clave for crimes I couldn't help but commit" she sounded sad now, like she didn't want the conversation to have taken this particular turn.

"What crimes?" It was Jace speaking up again. His anger had fallen slightly, and he spoke with a new tone, like false curiosity or maybe even pity, or possibly concern. Rosie noticed too because her eyes shot from Alec's, breaking the eye contact and connecting with Jace's.

"I was born," was all Rosie said because at that moment, the door to the sanctuary burst open behind Alec. Little Blue came crashing in, bouncing around like the small child she was, and running straight for Gloria who had scrambled from Clary's lap at the sight of the eccentric little girl. Rosie's eyes followed her all the way, sometimes switching between the girl and Alec, making the connection, and smiling sweetly at him. Her eyes suddenly looked older, more maternal, and wise.

Following shortly came Magnus in all of his glittery glory. He wore black leather trousers and a dark blue, almost see through shirt that seemed to sparkle like fireworks. He had rings on all his fingers and a wedding band hung on a chain around his neck. Alec had smiled when Magnus had told him the reasoning. He had said, "I wear many rings Alexander, I'm not seen without them, but you will never catch me wearing a necklace, and therefore the ring shall be a mix of both. The ring as a ring, and a chain to make it a necklace. This is a testimony of my love, Alexander, for you are the only person I would wear a necklace for."

Magnus froze in the doorway, and his yellow cat eyes stared intently at Rosie like she was the angel himself.

"Hello, Magnus," she said softly, looking him directly in the eyes.

"You know him, Rosie?" Isabelle questioned, her gaze jumping from one warlock to the next. Well, that is if Rosie could be classed as a warlock.

"Rosie?" is was Magnus who spoke, humour evident in his voice. "That's what you go by now, is it? Last I checked, you were Scarlet or Scar for short," he gave her a look you'd often see a parent giving a child when they were being patronizing, and Magnus was definitely being patronizing.

"Well, no harm in mixing it up now and then is there, right Maggie?" They spoke with such comfort, like two people who've known each other for their whole lives. Then again, as two immortals, they were bound to cross paths at one point or another.

"I'm sorry, so your name's not Rosie?" Jace said, sounding betrayed again and a little bit incredulous to the situation.

"No," Rosie- or not Rosie- said gently. "It's not Rosalyn either."

"What is it then?" Isabelle asked, but before Rosie could reply, Magnus spoke again.

"Her name is Tora," he said with his all-knowing voice. He was suddenly standing next to Alec in the silent sanctuary, apart from the faint giggles of the two little girls playing outside on the grass. All eyes turned to Magnus in shock, except the sparkling blue eyed girl who seemed amused.

"And how would you know this Magnus?" Jace said sarcastically.

The answer seemed obvious to Alec. Two warlocks over 500 years old are likely to have met eventually. He opened his mouth to speak at the same time as Magnus, but they were both cut off by Rosie- or Tora.

Everyone froze and the entire room seemed to gawk at the two warlocks, both of which were smiling slightly. Tora with a stance of pride arrogance and Magnus with minimal amusement. The words she had just spoke bounced around Alec's mind, replaying and repeating over and over, like a loop. Her voice had been so certain, but now Alec knew why she had been strange saying his name, why it had sounded so familiar rolling off of her tongue. Jace looked as shocked as everyone else at this point. All she had to say was:

"Because he's my brother."

* * *

**CLIFF HANGER! oh I do love those ;)**

**remember to review, it only takes a second :3**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'M UPDATING LIKE A BEAST!**

**please don't get used to lots of updates since I will soon be back at school and my time will slowly disintegrate...**

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**all rights t the amazing Cassandra Clare apart from the characters of my own invention and the plot enjoy!**

* * *

"Jace, by the Angel, will you sit down! You're pacing is driving everybody mad," Clary was in the library with the other partial heads of the Institute, Alec, Jace, and Isabelle. Since Robert had died, Maryse had been working like her life depended on it, and Clary couldn't blame her. When her parents had died, she'd done nothing but train on her own for hours and sleep occasionally. When Maryse decided to leave the Institute, she put in a request to the Clave for her children to have it, and so the Lightwood children split it three ways. Clary also partially ran the Institute, by marriage, and since Isabelle and Alec were living elsewhere due to their chosen spouse, she and Jace ran it most of the time.

The conversation with Rosie- or Tora as she was now, had taken a turn no one had expected, and no one was sure how to take it. Isabelle and Alec didn't see any problem with Tora, and to them she was the same girl who had raised them; like nothing had changed. Jace, on the other hand, was still lost. He could see her with his own eyes and he had got all the answers he wanted, but everyone could see how clouded his judgement on the issue would be; especially while he was still steaming like a tea kettle on an open fire.

"She can't stay here," he said, still pacing the length of the library in his black jeans and white shirt. Isabelle and Alec shared one of the sofas that faced the coffee table, watching Jace as he passed by it, stubbing his toe occasionally. Alec wore his usual attire of black jeans and a dark jumper, something not even Magnus could change. Isabelle wore one of her floor length loose dresses to compensate for the large baby bump growing out of her stomach. This one was a soft and delicate rose color.

"And why not?!" Isabelle stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Had she not been pregnant, Clary could tell she would have stood then, and stand her ground against her stubborn adoptive brother. As it was, the effort of rising and sitting had become a burden to Izzy, a burden she often avoided. "Why should you be the one to choose if she stays or not?"

"You two are never here, for starters," Jace exclaimed, stopping his pacing to stare at Isabelle who matched his glare with one of her own. "You're off making babies with vampire boy!" he shouted, pointing at Izzy and ignoring how Alec winced at the statement. "And you're off with sparkly lover boy!" this time pointing to Alec.

"We still get our say though, Jace," it was Alec that spoke now, forgetting how Jace had mentioned his sister's sex life. "And we're here more than we are home."

Clary sat on the sofa opposite of Isabelle and Alec, but Jace's body blocked her view of them. She didn't speak from fear of being shouted down at, so she just sat in her own thoughts. Something was wrong about Tora, something eerily familiar, but Clary couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen her somewhere before. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't forget how her crystal blue eyes, sparkling with anticipation had bored in hers, seeing into her soul, with all her hopes and dreams left on display.

She knew the others were still talking but she kept to herself, finding simple things to distract her. Like the feeling of the deep red velvet under her now calloused hands, the smooth yet old feeling of the metal on the sofas arm, cold against the delicate brush of her fingertips.

"Clary. Clary?" she could hear someone saying her name, but her own thoughts were too tantalizing and tempting for her to leave. She was oddly aware of someone's hand on her shoulder, but she didn't respond, not until they gave her a quick shake.

"Huh. What?" she said, tripping over her words in a daze as she looked into the golden eyes of her husband. She could see, just from those syrupy depths that he was hurting, she knew that Tora's return hadn't been easy on him and this was proof of that. The pacing, the slight puncture on his lip, making it darker pink than the rest from him biting it, the way his thumb nail was bitten down to the quick. Yes, he was far from happy.

"Clary, are you okay?" Jace asked, his voice suddenly worried as he placed a hand on either of her shoulders and looked into her face for any sign of trouble.

"I feel," Clary began but became dizzy, her thoughts refusing to form coherent images. "Strange," she finished, the dizziness subsiding slightly but her mind still felt muddled, like a toy box after a child had dug to the bottom, putting everything out of place.

"That, my dear child, would be Tora's doing," everyone looked at the glittering warlock in the doorway, his skin sparkling like a thousand diamonds where the sun hit the glitter, portraying a rainbow of shine.

"What has she done to her," Jace shouted, pointing to Clary for emphasis. Alec was looking at Magnus, and Isabelle was on her feet, her hand on Clary's shoulder like the protective sister she was. Clary and Isabelle had grown so close over the years and had even become parabatai just before Isabelle turned 18. They were the perfect fighting team, Clary with her size and speed, Izzy with her cunning skill and her strength, they had even beaten Jace and Alec before. Conveniently, Clary had distracted him with a slight clothing malfunction so Jace didn't see it as a fair win, and still they wouldn't let it go.

"Relax," Magnus said nonchalantly, waving a hand in the air, indicating there wasn't a problem at hand despite the disoriented red-head. "She does it to everyone."

"Does what?!" Jace's voice was demanding, his anger growing and growing at the lack of information. The woman he loved was being delusional, and he knew who did it to her, yet Magnus acted like she was perfectly fine.

"Your instincts take over when she's around," Magnus began, waving off anyone who tried to interrupt which seemed to be everyone "The angel blood knows she's a threat to you, and is working as some sort of warning. Telling you to get away from her." Everyone was blank, their expressions vacant "At a guess, Clarissa is in this state due to maternal instinct as well as the angels, the need to protect her children."

"Then why don't I feel any different?" Isabelle was wary, her arms around her baby bump, her face a mask of concern.

"You trust her," he stated "You feel nothing negative towards her and don't picture her as a threat. You know her." Seemingly happy with the answer, Isabelle sighed in relief. "Clary has more angel blood in her, those instincts mixed with the worry for a child is overwhelming, especially for such a small person," he said as a side thought, smirking at Jace's angry expression. "And before you argue Jonathan, you feel it too," he said to Jace, a knowing look in his eyes. "The angel blood and your own personal responses are battling inside you causing your indecisiveness. One side trusts her with your life, while the other wants her dead. Your personal experiences are also battling for and against her, thus your anger."

"Why would she a threat to any of us?" Alec asked his husband, trying in vain to hide the worry in his voice.

"Because, Alexander, she's a fugitive for a reason." With that, Magnus turned, his body sparking like fireworks with every movement. "Do hurry up with you verdict though dear, we grow restless," he turned and began walking away again, leaving the four of them to decide, instinct or not.

* * *

Ashley was roaming the halls of the Institute. This was all he'd been doing after the little 'reunion' in the Sanctuary. Jace had left first, followed by worried Clary. Then Tora followed by Magnus. He had left after that, desperate for some answers of his own. He'd ignored everyone's attempts at conversation that morning, wanting nothing more than to find that something, or more accurately, some one.

He was falling into his own thoughts, scraping every side of his subconscious like a jar of jam for things about the girl with the red hair and blue eyes. Tora. It was funny, because when she said she was called Rosie Ash had found it too good to be true, like some sort of dream he'd created. He'd thought she was a rose once, delicate and beautiful but with the potential for harm if you pressed the wrong places. That was how he had to get to her, press in the right places.

As he wandered through the halls his thoughts took flight, soaring through his mind like a bird released from it's cage. His ears were filled by a beautiful melody, notes that merged together in a string of complex and quick sounds melded together with a soft and slow voice. Ash wasn't only good with the art of drawing, but also the art of music. He had taken to playing the guitar at a young age with Uncle Simon's help and also learned to play the piano with the help of his father.

Much like his mother's artistic eye he had inherited, Ash had developed a musician's ear. The ability to hear the true meaning of music. To sense the pain and loss behind the words, or the joy and happiness behind the chords, something his father could do too. It was because of this musician's ear that Ash realised the music wasn't in his head.

The sound was resonating from a crack in the music room's door where it hadn't been shut properly. The instrument was obviously the piano that had been at the Institute longer than him, the soft yet sharp keys sounded out through the gap. Walking towards the light source, he peeked through the gap, hoping for a glimpse of the owner of the beautiful voice.

Ash only came to the music room alone now, and had never heard any of the Institute's occupants sing before, so it could be anyone. Ash knew more than most not judge how a person sings by their appearance, because everyone was full of surprises. The singing stopped, and so did the music and Ash held his breath, praying to the angel that he hadn't been caught listening in. Music was his salvation after painting, so he didn't want to ruin some one else's, but the music started again and the voice began to sing.

_Underneath the echoes_

_Buried in the shadows_

_There you were._

_Drawn into your mystery_

_I was just beginning _

_To see your ghost_

_But you must know_

The voice obviously belonged to a woman, that much Ash could tell, the softness in the voice screamed at him the inner turmoil beneath the lyrics. The way the voice would break on some notes, but not from bad singing. The voice was beautiful, calming and elusive, hard to place to a person. The words themselves were as elusive as the voice, before he could grasp their meaning, they would slip through his fingers like sand, trailing away bit by bit.

_I'll be here waiting_

_Hoping Praying That_

_ the sky will guide you home. _

_When you're feeling lost I'll leave my love _

_Hidden in the sun_

_For when the darkness comes._

Ash was lost in the melody of the song, his mind taking him to a world so far away from this one. A world full of light that slowly dimmed, the color being sucked out bit by bit, leaving behind despair and pain, the tone of the words betrayed that much. He could feel the loving meaning behind the words, the longing and the loss, the need for something, the strive to protect what you loved even if you couldn't see it.

The hope that fueled the song died along with the voice and Ash was dragged back to reality, back to the Institute.

"You may as well join me, golden boy," the voice behind the door said and Ash froze. That was Tora's voice.

He took a deep breath before opening the door and walking through. He was a Herondale, and he was brave. She sat on the piano bench, her left hand placed on the keys, stroking them with a delicate fondness beneath the long grey sleeves of her shirt. It was hard to think of any reason this girl would sing of loss when you looked at her, she was just an 18 year old girl with extraordinary choice in hair colour and bright eyes.

Ash knew better though. This girl had lived for longer than anyone in this building, she had lost more than anyone else. She hadn't said she'd lost anything but her eyes betrayed her just a slight bit. No one but Ash, Clary, and Magnus would notice it. The tiny layer of despair sat huddled beneath her mask, just enough for Ash to know she'd lost something dear to her.

He looked down at her form sitting on the bench, as she looked up at him with the mask back on and Ash could see nothing in the oceanic depth. The barrier had come down because of the music and he had arrived before she could fix it.

"You wanna sit?" she said, indicating to the still fair amount of space on the bench. Lost for words and still stuck in his thoughts, Ash nodded and sat next to her. There was still space between them so they weren't touching, but Ash could feel something pulling him to her, an air of mystery and difference he'd never felt before. Curiosity. "Is there a particular reason you were lingering outside the door?" she asked bluntly, straight to the point.

"You have beautiful voice," Ash said then mentally slapped himself for sounding like a child. He straightened up and continued, not looking at her but at the piano keys in front of him. "I wanted to listen without disturbing you," he shrugged lightly and tried not to look at her. Her face screwed up in confusion as she looked at him, the sunlight from the window bathing him in a golden glow. She shook her thoughts away and replied.

"Fair enough," she replied and they lapsed into a comfortable silence while Tora ran her fingers along certain keys, playing a song only she could hear.

"Where did you learn to play?" Ash asked, praying he was pressing the right buttons to get her to open up, but scared to press too hard. His caution was proved pointless since she just laughed at him.

"Nearly 900 years old, and you expect me to remember that?" she asked incredulously, Ash just felt foolish in response. "As it happens," she said lightly, looking at his face and suppressing her smile at his pink ears. "I do remember." Ash was slightly taken aback. Had she just laughed at him for no apparent reason? Was she trying to embarrass him? "I learned when I was a child growing up and i guess I never forgot," she said, smiling at the thoughts of a time long ago.

"And where did you grow up?" Ash asked subtly, using his fingers as little legs and walking across the white road formed by the keys towards her. Her face didn't change and she still sat smiling. Ash must be pressing in the right places so far.

"England," she said lost in her nostalgic world "In the Devon Institute."

"And this was with your mum and dad?" he asked, trying desperately to tread carefully. She was a mine field and he didn't want to see her when she detonated. She just laughed again, still not looking at her.

"No," she said. "I was raised by my Aunt Diana and her husband," she stopped for a second, a moment of silence for someone so long ago lost. "Well, she wasn't my real aunt, both my parents were the only children in their family. Diana was my mother's parabatai. She used to show me the faded rune and tell me what a wonderful woman my mum was."

Ash stopped for a moment, thinking of his next move. He wanted to learn more, wanted to know everything about this strange girl, but he wasn't sure how hard to press at it.

"How did she die?" he said and promptly slapped his hand over his mouth as though he could stop the words in time. He hadn't meant to ask, but like his mother and father, he had a habit to just blurt anything out, the only difference being that his father didn't feel the guilt of what he says. Seeming to notice his discomfort, or maybe the sound of his palm slapping his face, she looked up at him. Her blue eyes didn't show any signs of pain, they didn't show any sign of any significant emotion, she was just…neutral.

"She was murdered by my father before he killed himself," she said bluntly still with her voice a direct contrast to the way the conversation had turned. Her voice held no longing or loss, just stating a fact, like it happened to some random stranger born on the other side of the world, not to her. "Don't worry," she said, seeming to notice how his face had dropped. "I don't mind, I never knew her, or him for that matter," she said, adding the last part as an afterthought.

She moved her long, fire-like hair to hang over her left shoulder, leaving her right one bare where the shirt had fallen down revealing the pale yet scarred skin. Ash couldn't help but notice the murky, once-white bandage that was wrapped around her wrist and his mind itched for the answer, threatening to question why it was there, but he restrained himself. Instead, he looked at her shoulder and noticed the dark lines peeking out over the top of her shirt. The longer he looked the more he noticed, it wasn't just black lines, but some sort of tattoo inked into her skin, her back had a strange speckled brown birth mark, like his mother's freckles and the white rune scars weren't the only ones she held on her skin. Looking closer, he could see still red marks peeking just a little to the side of her tattoo, and another further towards him.

She hadn't noticed his staring, she was lost in a nostalgic world of 12th century Devon. the rolling hills and the crystalline springs. The simplistic beauty of the ocean providing s soft salted scent. The place she'd called home. To anyone looking at her, you couldn't tell she was in deep thought, she just looked down at the piano keys with a look of slight boredom on her face, like a student finishing a test early.

"What this on your back?" Ash said reaching towards her but as quick as a flash of lightning, she was standing above him, her face staring down at her in anger.

"Don't touch me" sh shouted, staring down at him, her face masked but her eyes portraying her anger. "Don't think that I don't know what you're trying to do golden boy," she spat at him. "Trying to learn my secrets and get to know the real me," she said the last part in a sarcastically story telling voice. "Well don't" she pointed at him, glaring down at him with her intense blue eyes that bore into his soul. "If I wanted to get to know you, I would."

Ash was taken back at the venom in her voice, and the furious look on her face. It only took a second, but he regained his bearings and spoke back, still sitting down. "I was just curious," he said, trying sound arrogant and charming like his father did.

"Oh quit it, will you?" Tora said rolling her eyes before glaring at him again.

"Quit what?" he asked innocently with a shrug knowing that anything she said from now would just ricochet off him with a snide remark to boot.

"Trying to be like your father when you're not." That struck a chord.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, looking at his nails, trying desperately not to let his façade crack, lest she see the real him.

"Give it up golden boy. I can see through you like glass." Ash didn't doubt this. The way her blue eyes would see you, but at the same time see so much more. She didn't just look at you, she looked through you. In every part of you. Your deepest secrets, your worst nightmares could be hers to control. The thought made Ashley dizzy, but he stood his ground.

"You don't know me," was all he replied, trying to get on her nerves with his cockiness and faux ignorance, but Tora had seen everything before. She stood there looking at him with her arms crossed, a smirk playing at her lips, changing her face from beautiful to malicious. The thought of a challenge pleased her, and knowing the challenge could break this boy made it even more entertaining for her. She wasn't sadistic, and she didn't enjoy others pain, unless they deserved it. Ash hadn't done much, but he had done enough to throw her off the edge and he was going to learn that she was a force to be reckoned with. She was the Black Angel.

"Oh really?" she replied, smirking when he looked up at her. "You try desperately to be like your father when you're more like your mother. You train all day and whenever else you get the chance, trying to prove you can be daddy's little angel." She said fluttering her eyelashes and pouting like a child. "You're jealous of the fact that your father can brush off anything that hits him, while it buries itself into you and you find pleasure in seeing him sad, not a lot but it's there in the back of your mind."

Ash froze just slightly, a cool wave of realization hitting him as he listened. He'd met the girl only three times now and had seen more of her than he would have liked. He thought he knew it all, he thought he could read people, but listening to her now, ranting on about him was too much. She continued to talk while he fell into the pit of his thoughts, and he only drew back when he heard her voice rising in volume and anger, oblivious to him tuning her out.

"You're damaged Ashley Herondale," she stated bluntly with a superior voice. "Not majorly, not enough for the cracks to show," she added as an afterthought before continuing on her depreciation of him. "But it's there, buried in those golden eyes, so close to your father's, but so far away. You are not your father and you're no better than me. Don't you ever look down on me like you're the bigger person Ashley, because you are no more than a child and don't you ever challenge me because you will lose!"

Ashley didn't speak, he didn't move, he didn't look at her. Everything she had said was true. How could one person have the power to tear someone down in a matter of minutes? Sure, she'd been alive for a long time and had picked up some little tricks along the way, but what could make someone bitter enough that they learned how to break people with words like that, because that outburst wasn't just coincidence. It was observation. She had noted all the tiny details about him, not just clothing and attitude, but his posture, the way he spoke, the way he held himself; every single tiny detail was a weapon at her disposal and he didn't like it.

He stood, still not looking at her, halfway caught between leaving and retorting something back to her, but she'd already begun to speak again. "I'm going to leave now," she said bluntly. "And you're going to stay away from me," she walked towards him until they were inches apart "Aren't you, golden boy?" she smiled in an insincere way and began walking towards the door, and that's when Ash snapped, and Ash never snapped.

He spun and grabbed her wrist, the bandaged one and noted how she winced at the pressure he put there. He stared at her, gold meeting blue and he applied a little more pressure, just to test. He noticed it, a flicker in her eye indicating pain, but she didn't cry out. She stood tall and proud, superior to him in her own little world. He wanted her to cry out.

"Two can play that game," he snarled at her, loosening his grip when he noticed he was going too far. "You're hiding something, it doesn't take an expert to tell, but there's something you're hiding." He looked into her eyes, begging for some sort of clue and there it was, a splash of darkness in the flawless blue. A storm cloud in the empty summer's sky. "There's an evil in you and I'm going to find out what it is even if it kills me. So if you think for one second that I'll stay away from you, then you can go to hell." he finished with a snarl.

Despite the anger evident on his face and the dangerous turn his voice had taken, Tora smiled at him. Not a sweet smile, this was an evil smile. She wrenched her wrist from his grip and watched as his face fell. "Honey, they're waiting for me." was all she said before stepping backwards. "I'll be on my way now" she said with another sly smile before she turned and walked out of the music room, boots clanking on the wooden floors, and her long hair creating a fiery a trail behind her when she walked.

Ash stood there, frozen. Her words had hurt him. Words didn't hurt him. So long he had worked to build up the mask of who his family wanted him to be. It took a long time to appear like something you're not, and this girl has seen through it all instantly, and used it as her weapon. The strange thing was that wasn't what scared him. What scared him was himself. The way he'd grabbed her, wanting to cause her pain, to hurt her like she had hurt him, only worse. That wasn't like Ash.

Ash was strictly opposed to revenge in all forms of the word. Sure, he'd get Seb back after a prank, but that was as far as it would go; it was always friendly. Never had he, or ever wanted to, hurt those who had hurt him, it just wasn't in his nature. But, he had wanted to hurt Tora, wanted to watch her cry out in pain, to see her bleed and that scared him more than anything. He had only wanted to tell her that he wasn't going to leave her alone, that he was sorry for upsetting her and that he wanted to get to know her. Something had happened in that moment that he grabbed her, making his blood boil and cause his anger to take over, something that had never happened before, with the exception of demon hunting.

He thought for a moment, standing still in the music room, Tora's beautiful voice playing at his thoughts with her haunting melody.

_When you're feeling lost I'll leave my love._

Ash had never felt so lost on his life and to make it worse, he didn't have anyone like that to leave him love like that.

_Hidden in the sun._

If there's no love given, then it can't be hidden, so Ash would never find it.

_For when the darkness comes._

The darkness was already here and Ash couldn't fight it, even if he tried.

* * *

**Oooooooo! Tora's an evil little minx ;) I also don't own the song in this but its called **When The Darkness Comes by Colbie Caillat. **Its my favourite song at the moment. im seriously running it into the ground ;) **

**Review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Another update to those who are reading this story :)**

**I know I've been updating a lot his holiday but I'm afraid the updates are going to slow dwon now since I'm going back to school :( sad times**

**thank you to my amazing Bet and apart from the plot and the characters I created the rights of this goes to Cassandra Clare!**

**Please review!**

* * *

Tora felt proud. That was a new feeling, pride. She'd never had reason to feel something so strong towards herself. She had been proud of others, obviously. She had been proud of Jace when he'd hit the centre of the target for the first time, she was proud of Alec when he plucked up the courage to ask Jace to be his parabatai, and she was proud when Isabelle could use her whip properly, but she had never had such pride for herself.

She'd left the music room after her little moment with Ash, and had managed to make it back to her room without running into anyone else. She went straight to the bed, plunking down on it after shoving the journal back under her pillow, where it belonged. It was then she realized that for Ash to find it he would have had to go under her pillow to find it. Was he nosing through her stuff? Snooping where he was far from wanted? Snooping wasn't the worst of it. The worst part what not knowing why or how much he'd read.

She ran her hands over her face, the fear of being caught by Ashley Herondale had shaken her up bit at first, but after her little deduction technique, she had grown back taller and stronger. She had no reason to be worried about him. _For now_, the nagging voice in the back of her head added. By the angel, how she hated that thing called a sub conscience. Her inner argument was cut short when someone knocked on her door.

It could only be one of four people: Alec and Isabelle in search of more answers, Ashley to try shout her down again, or Magnus, dear Magnus, her darling younger brother. _The brother who doesn't even look for you_, the voice said bitterly, and worst of all, she agreed with it. They knocked again, not something Alec would do; he was too nervous most of the time and was a very patient person, and you had to be if you were friends with Jace. So that left three people.

"Come in!" she shouted, placing her hands over her face. She heard the door open and then heard it shut again but the intruder of her peace didn't speak. That ruled out Magnus and Izzy, both of which would have shouted their entrance and started a conversation whether she was listening or not. So that left one.

"Back again golden boy?" she murmured into her hands.

"New nickname for me then?" Tora knew that voice, she knew it so well. That was the voice that plagued her worst nightmares, but now it was all grown up. She moved her hands and looked up at him. He stood next to the bed, hands in his pockets and looking at her with his arrogant smirk. How she'd missed that smirk.

"Thought you were someone else," she murmured lightly, trying not to frighten him off. "Can I ask why you're in my room?" she asked, and Jace was now looking at the parchment-like paper on the wall, trailing a finger along the edges or unfolding corners that had curled over time.

"You can stay," was all he said, not meeting her eye. "Isabelle and Alec made the valiant point that you are still part shadow-hunter, even if it's not a lot, and we have to offer you refuge. It's the law."

"Well that's good then isn't it," Tora said, trying to keep her voice light even thought her heart was breaking for the boy in front of her. He had only been 13 years old when she'd left, he'd only lost his 'father' ten years before. It must have broken him to have lost so much in such little time._ Who says he cared? Maybe he was glad you left, that could be why he's mad. Now he has to get rid of you all over again._ The voice was hissing in her ear. It was hitting her where it hurt most, the people she loved. She knew what the voice was, and she was better than it. She wouldn't give in. Not now, not ever.

"But we have to tell the Clave." he said solemnly.

"No!" Tora was on her feet, standing at the end of her bed, looking at the young man, the little boy that she remembered, had become.

"Ros-" Jace stopped and corrected himself with an aggravated sigh. "Tora, we don't have a choice," he looked exhausted while he spoke; there were bags under his eyes indicating that he hadn't slept as much as he made out. It made him look older, and much more vulnerable. What a difference 21 years can make. _Like you care. _it hissed, her own personal snake in the grass.

"Jace, please," she walked towards him and he tensed up at her closeness. She ignored it. "You can't do that Jace, you can't!" something in the panic Tora's voice held intrigued Jace, he wanted to know why this girl was so scared of the Clave, what they could have possibly done.

"Tora, you have nothing to be afraid of," he looked at her now and tried not to shy away from the pain and worry in her eyes. Tora never showed her feelings, she never had. That's where Jace had learned to do it, but his walls were weak and Clary broke them in a heartbeat, but Tora's walls were nearly indestructible. It took something strong to break her walls. "The Clave won't hurt you."

"Yes they will Jace!" she exclaimed. "You don't understand, I came here for your help," she sighed. "If I wanted to go to the Clave, I bloody well would have!"

"Why are they after you?" he asked curiously, his voice stronger, more demanding than questioning.

"Jace-" Tora started but was cut off.

"No Tora, you've lied to me enough!" he shouted, hands clenched into fists at his sides. She tried her best not to be hurt, not to feel the guilt of what she'd done, but it was too hard, she let it wash over her and she wanted to cry so badly, to let all the bottled emotions out. But Tora didn't cry, she promised never to cry again.

"Fine!" she exclaimed, sitting on the bed and putting her face in her hands, defeated. She hadn't expected Jace to sit down, and he didn't. He just stood there looking at her, arms crossed with a hard expression. "Look at you," she said lightly, moving her face so she could see him. "All grown up," she looked at her hands which were balled into fists on her lap, the paint on her nails chipped from the journey here. She felt the bed sag next to her, the springs creaking under Jace's weight, but she didn't look up.

Jace would come around, she knew that, but he wouldn't yet. Knowing the truth would not help speed the process, but she knew lying would make it so much worse.

She knew what she had to do, she had to tell the truth, but not the whole truth. She had to leave holes and gaps in the story, and leave some questions unanswered. There is less pain that way, she thought, _but still pain_. The voice chided her and she scolded herself for letting guilt course through her at it's words.

"Why do they want you Tora? Is it for you to help them? Clary did that once, and she was fine," he said, his voice trying to be strong yet soft, hiding his frustration.

"Help?" she laughed sarcastically "Do you think I would be scared to help them? Have I really been gone that long?"

"It was just a question," Jace said, defensive of how she had answered. He knew she wouldn't apologize, apologies for little things wasn't something she did.

"People don't hunt you for 800 years just to ask for your help," she said patronizingly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They want to kill me," Jace had not expected that. Torture her for information maybe, the Clave were like that, but they weren't killers. They didn't hunt people down to kill them, not even murders.

"Why would they want you dead exactly?" he said, his voice sounding sarcastic even when it wasn't meant to, something that Jace always had a problem with. Something else Tora had taught him.

"I wasn't a mistake Jace, I was planned and created for a reason, a reason I've been avoiding since I was 18 years old." Now Jace was confused, he opened his mouth to ask her more but she waved him off, something Jace did not appreciate. "I'm and immortal shadow-hunter Jace," she said in a matter of fact tone "No matter what cross-overs or hybrids the Clave are trying to make, and trust me they're making some bad ones, none of them will make you immortal. And we both know the shadow hunters are still a dying breed."

"So, the Clave made you?" he asked, getting lost on the road she was leading him down.

"Don't be stupid. The Clave is too proud to try getting help from demons, but demons don't have that problem."

"You've lost me," he stated, honestly he'd been lost all of last night and today, his questions had been answered, but more had stemmed from them. He'd stormed out of the sanctuary after finding out about her and Magnus. Why Magnus never mentioned he had a sister was beyond everyone else but right now, that wasn't the question.

"Come on Jace," she said, looking intently into his eyes, her gaze making him shift uncomfortably. "What hates angels more than anything else?" she asked expectantly.

"Demons," he said like there was no other answer.

"Well, yes, but I was hoping for something more specific," she said rolling her eyes in impatience. When he just looked at her with a vacant expression, she sighed.

"Lucifer, Jace." Recognition lit up Jace's face at the name, finally something he knew about. "Lucifer and his demons have been trying to wage war on the angels since they cast him out," Jace nodded along, not really sure if he should interrupt. Tora always loved telling stories. "When Lucifer found out about the shadow-hunters, he was pissed. He was mad that the Angels were too lazy to fend for themselves and let some cross breed do it for them." Her face screwed up into a visible grimace, towards the word or the thought, Jace didn't know. "So, he created something that could wipe the shadow-hunters out. Something that would hunt them until the end of the earth."

"And that's you?" he asked. He knew what the answer was going to be, but he was praying to any one that would listen, that he was wrong. She didn't answer with words. She looked at him, her blue eyes boring into his, speaking the words her mouth didn't. He was the one to break the contact, too many thoughts in such a confined space was giving him a headache. "But you won't do it," he stated.

"Of course I won't!" she exclaimed, incredulous that he would have to ask, even if it wasn't a question, she knew he meant it as one. "I may hate most shadow-hunters, but I'm not going to slaughter them."

"Wait a second," he said, back-peddling slightly. "You hate shadow-hunters? But we're all shadow-hunters!" he said will a slight angry twinge in his voice. Not enough to make his hurt obvious, but enough that Tora picked up on it. She smiled and his face grew confused.

"Well spotted," she said, raising an eyebrow "That is why I said most," she stated obviously, trying not to laugh as the realization dawned on Jace's golden face.

"I won't tell them," he said standing up and straightening his clothes "And I'm sorry I read your Diary," he added, almost shyly. Only almost.

"You read it?" she asked, half way between standing and sitting.

"When you left, I came in here a lot. I tried to find some way to remember you, and that's when I found it," he didn't seem embarrassed anymore, almost like she couldn't be mad at him. This was his revenge for her leaving and she knew she couldn't argue.

She nodded and tried not to meet his eyes, feeling exposed. All her most inner thoughts and feeling were in that diary, her most precious of thoughts bound between its pages. That was her whole life, and the thought of someone prying through it frightened her.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked. Tora didn't answer so he continued anyway. "A name came up in there a lot. I didn't think much of it, but now I'm curious," she looked at him then, her own curiosity bubbling away under her rocky surface. "Who is Rosalyn?" he asked and watched as her face fell, dropping into a sorrowful expression as her heart sunk further and further in her chest, like a rock in a pond.

She hoped he would do what Ash did, slap a hand over his mouth, and leave room for her to evade the question. But of course, Jace wasn't Ash, the same way that Ash wasn't Jace. She took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Gone," was all she said. It wasn't a lie, Rosalyn was a ghost to her now, a ghost she wished she could of prevented. "Long gone," she walked over to the window and stood looking out watching how the sun was setting behind the New York skyline. Watching the two little girls, one blonde one black, dancing through the darkening grass, while Clary and Magnus sat at the side on a bench.

Noticing that was all he was getting, Jace began to leave, content that he had at least got some form of answer out of the girl. He crossed the room and opened the door, building his courage before he spoke.

"Oh, and Tora," he said, running his fingertips along the engraved thorns on the wood. She turned and looked at him, the shadows casting eerie shadows across her white skin, making her look sinister and skeletal. Her piercing blue eyes set deep into black caverns. "I'm glad you're back," has said and then walked into the hallway, shutting the door behind himself.

Tora stood for a moment, her mind running wild. "What a difference a day makes," she said out loud with a smile._ You'd know_, the voice said in her mind, but she ignored it. Jace was glad she was back, sure he wasn't over the moodiness of it all, but she hadn't expected him to be. With a small smile, she closed her curtains and climbed under her covers, not wanting to see anyone else today. She curled under the familiar warmth, still fully clothed, and closed her eyes.

She prayed for sleep, trying to let the feeling wash over her, begging the memories to been taken from her along with her consciousness, but no luck. Her thoughts were plagued with images of a young girl, around 16, with long sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. She was sitting on a bench in a very old town. A town that was probably a city by now, all these years in the future. Tora looked at her but she didn't look back.

"I'm so sorry" Tora whispered into her pillow before the darkness consumed her.

* * *

"Gloria don't put that in your mouth!" Clary shouted from her spot on the bench, receiving her a giggle from the glittery warlock next to her. The infant in question gave Clary a guilty look before returning the stick to the floor, little Blue giggling behind her. "Don't laugh Magnus," Clary said half-heartedly not looking at him.

"Clarissa, dear," he said and Clary rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming. "How are you feeling?" he asked lightly and Clary stared at him. That wasn't what she was expecting. Noticing her blank and yet confused look, Magnus continued, "About Tora."

"Oh," Clary said, trying to think of the best way to process her thoughts on the mysterious girl. "Well. She seems…" but she trailed off, unsure of how to comprehend the strange yet familiar feeling she had when the girl looked at her. Tora was a mystery to Clary, and she wasn't a welcoming one. There was something in the girl's all-knowing stare that set Clary on edge and raised her guard.

"I can tell you don't like her," Magnus said indifferently.

"No, no, I never said that," Clary said trying not to offend Magnus with her dislike over his sibling. He waved of her bumbling excuse with a glittery hand and spoke.

"No worries my dear, not many people like her," he replied with a chuckle.

"You do," she stated, trying to move the topic away from her personal jumble of feelings.

"Of course I do," He said, like it was obvious. "She's a mystery, and she's secretive, and quite frankly, fascinating. What's not to like? Plus she's my sister," he added the last part as though it was an afterthought.

Clary nodded, not knowing what it was like to have a sibling you actually cared for. She and Johnathon had a very rocky past, both trying to kill the other, plus he did possess her husband one time, and threw Isabelle- beautiful, strong Isabelle- into a deep depression. A depression Clary could still feel now through her and Izzy's connections as she mourned the nine year old boy that was Max. Her fingers trailed absently mindedly to her parabatai rune and she smiled at the memory.

Isabelle had taken Clary shopping, something Clary despised, just after Johnathon's defeat. Isabelle had been the one to bring it up, there wasn't a big show of it, she just slipped it into conversation like asking for the time and Clary agreed just as nonchalantly. The two had grown closer and closer ever since.

"I must warn you, though," Magnus said, his voice slicing through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. "Keep Ash away from her," he didn't look at her when he spoke so there was no way of knowing the sincerity of his words from looks alone. Thankfully, his voice said it all. The all-knowing tone, the power in his words and troubled expression that had slowly moulded his face, making him look older, wiser. "Close your mouth, Clarissa, you'll catch flies." Clary shut her mouth instantly, shocked at the fact she hadn't noticed her jaw had even dropped.

"Why?" was all she could choke out. Magnus chuckled.

"You've seen her as much as everyone else my dear girl," Magnus looked at her now, his yellow cat eyes boring into her green ones. "She's a girl with a long and dangerous past, those who don't know her should do all they can to not become a part of it."

"Well, what makes you think Ashley will be interested?" Clary asked a little insulted. "Sebastian is the same age and a perfectly suitable boy," Magnus chuckled again.

"I'm not saying he isn't, but Ashley is a Herondale. From past experiences I can tell you they go for the girls who are slightly different." Clary was searching for whether to be complimented on her unique qualities, or to be insulted by Magnus's comment. Looking at the evidence though, he did have a point. You just had to look and Will and Jace to clarify that. Clary's eyes wandered and ended up staring at a window, a bedroom window that was usually obscured by the closed curtains, but today were open. Stood in her sights was Tora. She was looking out the window watching the two girls playing on the grass in the evening sun. The distance was too much to define an exact emotion, but Clary could tell it wasn't a positive one. She still looked beautiful though, features and elegance that no manner of paint or pencil could capture. calling her a mystery was an understatement and quite frankly an insult to her divine individuality.

"So, how do I keep them apart without getting myself involved? You said to stay out of her past," Clay said, her eyes moving from Tora to the floor, watching as a ladybug crawled along a blade of dew covered grass.

"Clarissa dear," Magnus said clucking is tongue. "You're already involved," Clary gave him a disbelieving look, begging him to continue and with a sigh and a shake of his head, he complied. "You've met before dear, you just can't remember," Clary thought about that comment, she thought about it a lot, secretly wishing Magnus would provide more information. He didn't.

"Mummy, its dark," a small voice said, snapping her out of her trance. Clary looked down to see Gloria looking up at her with her big green eyes filled with worry and fear. Her heart melted at the sight, and Clary leaned down, plucking the infant off the floor and placing her on her lap.

"It's okay sweetie, mummy's here," Gloria wrapped her chubby little arm around Clary's neck, burying her face in her unruly curls and Clary smiled. Looking over a Magnus, she saw the Blue had climbed onto his lap and was poking at one of his glitter spikes.

"Can we go now daddy, I'm sleepy," the black-haired girl said, crossing her arms over her chest impatiently. Magnus couldn't help but chuckle at her forwardness.

"Of course my love," he said, standing up with the little girl on his hip. "Let's go say goodbye to everyone first," he began walking away, back towards the sanctuary doors to go back inside. "Think carefully, Clarissa , if you want to remember you will, you always do. But be prepared for when it happens," with that he was gone.

Clary sat outside for a little longer, Gloria soundly asleep in her arms. Her mind travelled back, so far back, back to the time of the war. Of the after math, of the casualties, and that's when she saw it. The same blue eyes looking at her in the hallway of a house she wanted to forget.

The realization was too much. She stood up, wary of the sleeping infant and headed inside. She passed Simon lying awake on the bed next to a sleeping Isabelle, but gave him nothing more than a quick smile and left. She had to find Jace, had to make him see what she saw. Had to make him remember what had been in front of them all those years ago. Or more precisely, who had been in front of them all those years ago.

She could see it all perfectly now. Those eyes, those beautiful yet intense blue eyes staring at her, or more accurately through her. She had seen her too, but she hadn't noticed her, only what she was, and even that had proved to be wrong. She was sure she was a vampire or some other downworlder, but even that had seemed too little a description. Those eyes had looked at Clary from someone's side. Her brother's side.

Tora was one of the girls Johnathan had brought back to the apartment all those years ago when they were, well wherever they were in the world at that point. Her hair was different, so were her clothes, but they eyes held all. _For eyes are the windows to the soul Clarissa. _her mothers word echoed in her mind. That was back when Jace was possessed, and Clary had went with Jonathan to try to save Jace from the demonic parabatai bond. Even worse, Torawas the only one who made it out.

* * *

Simon stood just outside the sanctuary doors, his bare feet wiggling in the cool grass. How he missed feeling cold. It was strange, the cold was something so undesirable and uncomfortable and he couldn't imagine he would ever miss it, but he did. Warmth as well. He missed feeling the sun kissing his skin with its delicate rays, Isabelle's warmth when they were together, all of it.

He looked over his shoulder at her now, sleeping soundly in their bed, her belly hidden beneath the covers. Her face, though hidden in the shadows of night, looked beautiful. Her pale skin was still untouched by age and her delicate features made her look even younger.

He smiled when he thought about how perfect his life was now. He had his wife, his beautiful wife, and children, one of which was still waiting to be welcomed into the world. He fell into his thoughts, drowning in the beauty and peace of them. The images of black silky hair, of dark brown, almost black eyes, of his baby daughter soon to be looking up at him. The thought made him smile.

"Can't sleep either?" a voice came from in-front of him. He turned his head reluctantly from his whole world to look at the voice's owner. His eyes met the intense stare of none other than Magnus's sister. "No need to answer me then," she said putting her hands in her pockets after their brief uncomfortable silence.

"Why are you out here?" he asked inquisitively, not sure how to approach the girl that could break Jace Herondale and unnerve Clarissa Fray in one day.

"Getting to know my fellow immortals," she said with a smirk as she began to walk across the grass.

"Well, then. Okay," Simon said nervously as he watched her circling him like a bird of prey. He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and spoke. "Simon Lewis, Bloodsucker or Daylighter to other people."

"I know all that," she said rolling her eyes sarcastically. "I meant more personally," she said stepping closer. Simon, had it still pumped, was sure he would feel his heart rate speed up and his breath catch in his throat right then. She continued to walk forward and Simons grew more and more worried, trying to make his thoughts form coherent words.

"Thanks, erm, but I'm, uh, married," he was stumbling over his words, showing her the ring on his finger for emphasis. He felt like a bumbling teenager, ad on some level he was, but this shouldn't unnerve him as much as it was.

"I didn't mean like that," she said, rolling her eyes for what must have been the third time in under five minutes. Simon wondered how she didn't get dizzy. "But since we're going to be stuck together-" she started, but Simon, stumbling over his words again, interrupted her.

"I'm sorry, stuck together?" he asked incredulously. Simon's best friend may well have been a girl all his life but he was no closer to understanding the complex way a females mind worked than Jace was to reaching the moon.

"One day all this will be gone," Tora said bluntly, her voice not cold, but not quite warm either, more factual, like the date was set and the world would burn. "And what does that leave?" she asked, cocking her head slightly, the same way a dog might when confused, or like a curious cat, but it was her way of patronizing Simon further; belittling him further and further like he was just a child. In some ways, he supposed he was a child to her. Just a cub next to a lioness.

"When this goes, so do I," Simon said, trying to keep his voice strong but even he could detect the way it wavered, the way he stuttered on the first word like a child put on the spot. Tora clucked her tongue and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head with an all-knowing smile on her face.

"Say what you will, Simon Lewis" she said looking him straight in the eye, all remnants of her cocky façade gone, making her look stern, mature and wise. Her eyes were no longer glowing blue, they were burning. They shone through the darkness, slicing through it like a torch, burning through him. He thought then for a second he could feel it, could feel the heat radiating from her glare, feel it singe his skin, but that wasn't possible. "I've seen it all before. When the time comes, you won't be going anywhere."

They were silent, Simon staring at her like she was crazy, like she'd just grown a second head, like wings had just sprouted from her back, but at the same time, in awe. There was something about her, the power she possessed and the way she could put it into action with a snap of her fingers, or a blink of an eye. She was hypnotizing, that was the word, or manipulative, and that's what she was doing now, playing tricks on his mind. He remembered what Izzy had told him earlier.

_"She has this thing about her. One look can make you doubt yourself, make you want to run and hide and never come out. It's strange, only those with contact to the Angel have it."_

Simon remembered his encounter with Raziel, and his hand went absent mindedly to his forehead, lightly pressing where the Mark of Cain had been nearly 20 years ago. It all seemed like a dream now, like the war was some sick, twisted figment of his imagination. He had almost been killed, and he killed people in return. Those were dark days, he was a dark person, not worth-

"Don't use your freaky, voodoo, demon hypnosis on me lady." Simon said shakily, realizing that she was planting these thoughts. His head was swimming with doubt, his hands waved towards the red-head in front of her. "It doesn't work," she laughed at him before turning away slightly, her red hair looking even brighter in the dark.

"Just remember, Vampire," she started, already walking back towards the Institute gates. "At the end of the fire, we're the ones who remain," then she was lost to the darkness, leaving Simon to gawk at the empty space she had left.


End file.
